changes

So... I'm moving. By the end of this week, if all goes well, I should know where I'm moving to. For now all I know is that things are not working where I am, and for various reasons I have to be the one to go away. I guess the only fair label for the situation is "irreconcilable differences," although to be honest I am not sure exactly what those differences are, except for some abstract labels that I've slapped on in desperation to make myself feel like I understand my life a little. Despite the ambiguity, though, I am convinced that I've done everything I could to make it better. It didn't get better. So now I'm going away.

This is a big struggle for me. I have finally gotten to the point where I've accepted it enough to make actual (more than half-hearted) plans to leave, but I can't make myself want to, even though I fully recognize that I need to. Every box I pack feels wrong and backwards. I can't get over the feeling that my life is sort of just ending, without any new beginnings on the other side of the slamming door.

I'm trying to remember the last time I left somewhere because I had to, and not because it was simply time to move on, or because I was off on some new adventure. I think this might be a first for me. It hurts like hell.