18 years of junk-or as much as would fit into limited boxes-has been piled into the family car. I finally finished packing as the car was being loaded.
Tonight is my final night in my family home. As I type this my NSBFBF, or as I see her now, my sister is in the shower and I’m sprawled on what has became her bed. It’s funny how life changes. How relationships change. How people change.
In so many ways I think I’m nothing like the little girl I used to be. I’d like to think I’ve matured and grown into a better version of myself. In reality I’m still that scared little girl, afraid of the next chapter of her life.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m thoroughly excited to begin the next chapter in this story called ‘My Life’ . Truly I am. But when I step out of this house tomorrow, everything changes. I can’t even play the part of child or girl again. As much as my numerical age depicts that I am a woman, I don’t think I’ll actually feel it until I leave.
Woman…Adult. Such frightening nouns. How an it be that a simple string of letters makes me feel afraid? I do not wish to grow up. As much as I crave freedom and independence, surely life is so much simpler in the comfort of our own home?
I hope I like my new home. I hope I get along with my new neighbours. I hope I don’t lose this incredible friendship I have built with my best friend. I can’t bare to leave her, yet I must. How the heck am I going to survive without her? She is my rock. She is my own personal jester. No one I have ever met truly understands me like she does. And I don’t think they ever can, could or will.