BITTERSWEET

I don't remember the first time it hit me. Maybe the first time was while I hit the road with my brother laughing all the way with The Doors as our soundtrack or maybe it was when my dad ask me why and why I'm leaving. I know when it hit me, crying while I write.
Is not that I don't want to leave, it's not that, i'm actually so lucky to have a family that supports my dreams and push me to realized the, but i'm scared.  I'm scared because for the first time on my life my dreams are coming true. I'm not scared that they forget me, I'm not. I'm scared of me forgetting them, I'm scared that when I visit home, it won't feel like home.
I thought it would be easy, packing you life on two bags is not as easy. Tick, tack, tick, tack the clock is moving and i'm just left with 35 days to move across the world by myself.
I sound like I don't want to leave, it's not that, I'm actually dying to go already but the thought of living scares the shit out me. I don't know what i'm going with the post I just feel like the urge to let it out.  Breath in, breath out. Life is worth it.

My mother on her teens.
35 day's until moving.