Out of the darkness and into the sun.
Dreaming of what could be
And if I’d end up happy
I would pray
Trying hard to reach out
But when I’d try to speak out
Felt like no one could hear me
Wanted to belong here
But something felt so wrong here
So I pray
I could breakaway
I’ll spread my wings and I’ll learn how to fly
I’ll do what it takes ‘til I touch the sky
And I’ll make a wish, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won’t forget all the ones that I loved
I’ll take a risk, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
I am not happy here. I think everyone knows that. I have nothing—just me and the dogs. This house was a dream come true—two years ago.
The last year here has proven to me that I simply can’t make it on my own right now. There’s not a great job, there isn’t a relationship, nothing to tie me here. Just this house. An albatross.
Then around on Sunday around one in the morning it hit me—move to Texas.
The only reason I can’t do it right now is because of the house. I need to sell it, try to get some money from it, pack up Judah, Israel and myself and go.
There were a few hesitations at first. Like…my family. Anna having her first child. My sister and BIL wanting to start their family this year or at least early next year. Can I leave now when Benny will arrive in a few months, when a niece or nephew might come sooner than later?
On the heels of those thoughts came another: can I put my life on hold for other people?
It’s not that they would think that their lives are more important than mine. But if I stayed for them then I would be telling myself my own pursuit of happiness in Texas isn’t worth more than the changes they’re going through.
It’s time I made change for myself.
Everyone else is lightyears ahead of me in terms of where they are in their life journey. In a relationship, married, starting families. I don’t have any of that and won’t if I stay here. I naturally can’t relate to what they’re going through and what I’m going through they experienced years ago. It’s a constant reminder that I should’ve grown up years ago, that I should have experienced all of this when I was a teenager, not nearing my mid-twenties.
I am terrified. It outweighs the hope, the dream to move to Texas. But this isn’t a whim, it’s not a stray thought that I’m betting on. I’ve wanted to go there for years. At least a decade. I don’t know why it seemed so impossible until now—because it really did seem like I would never be able to go there.
It won’t solve all of my problems. It won’t be a cure-all, a quick fix, a band-aid. But there’s no reason not to do it. Not to try.
June 2003— One day I will go to Texas, which is a fantasy right now, and I will find my steely man and I will marry him and have lots of babies and keep house and cook and bake. I have no ambition to make something of myself.
December 2003— I’m going to miss this when I get married, move to Texas, and never have to see my family again.
June 2004— And then as we were standing in my room and I was plugging things in I commented in an offhand sort of way, “Beth likes the idea of us possibly doing photography together. Maybe even make a business out of it.”
“That’s good.”
“Besides,” I continued as I bent down to plug in the AC adapter cords, “I’ll be moving to Texas soon anyway.”
There was a pause and she says in a cautious voice, “Not too soon, I hope.”
My head came up. “Why not?” I asked.
“You can’t leave me,” she said and she sounded worried.
“What? I can’t leave you? I thought you couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”
“…No. I…thought you would stay around at least for a few more years. You can’t leave me,” she repeated. “Even though in four years you would be in Ecuador if you were me…”January 2005— “Wait for me and one day, I swear it, I’ll come to visit you. Somehow I’ll find the nerve to break away from everything familiar, stop clinging to this life, and make a new one. With you. How does that sound?”
It feels almost like pressing a restart button. The last few years have felt like I’ve only slammed my head into a wall over and over and over.
My initial plan was to just sell the house as quickly as possible. It didn’t matter that other people said I should see about putting it on the market, feel it out first—it wasn’t until the vampire said I should do it that I was like “Ohmygosh, that is a BRILLIANT IDEA!” I sicken myself with it—trust me.
God I wish I could just shut my brain off for a few moments of peace.
