It’s been about a month or so since I consistently posted on my blog, but to be honest, I’ve only added two journal entries in this time as well. Life is boring, and when life is boring, writing becomes hard. But I don’t want to be done writing for now, so from now on, I’m going to post once a week on Friday.
I have no idea what I’ll post just yet, but it will be something. I’ve been wanting to add images to my posts, and maybe this is when I’ll finally start. Who knows. But I’m trying to do this for fun, so it doesn’t cause me stress. We’ll see how far I get.
But for now, there’s something else I want to talk about tonight.
Ever since May, my dad has been up my ass about finding a plot of land in Tennessee to buy and settle down. And before I start talking my shit, let me just say that this was more my idea than his. He was just nice enough to support me financially.
So in May, when he came to visit me for graduation, we made a plan to sell the house in Nashville and use that money for me to buy my first house, along with some land for my father and me to live on until he passes.
I always knew that whatever happened, I wanted to be close to my dad as he got older. But in some odd way, I never thought he would be older while I was still trying to figure my life out.
I want to take care of my dad and support him once I get my career figured out. But that’s the funny thing about getting older—it doesn’t stop. And I am nowhere near ready to support him. I have so much more left to do in so many ways. I haven’t even started my career yet.
And while I am immensely grateful for my father’s help, if I only allow myself one location in this entire world to get a job, it will only hold me back.
And that fucking sucks.
I think a part of me wanted to be closer to my dad because then I would at least have one family tie. And maybe that would mean I’m not alone.
But I can’t give it up.
I can’t give up my future for my dad.
And I feel so insanely guilty for it, but also so incredibly free.
All I have ever wanted was to be free, and forcing myself to move back to Tennessee felt like a death wish. I have so much more living to do and so much more to see.
I’m watching all my friends buy houses, get married, and even start having kids. They’re all starting to settle down, and while some days I am enormously jealous, most days I’m so happy it’s not me.
I have no idea who I am most days, or who I’m going to be. I don’t know where I’ll end up, what I’ll love, or what I’ll hate.
But there is one definite thing I do know: I love figuring it out.
I love not knowing where I’m going to be in five years. I love the unpredictability of my life. I find it to be one of my greatest joys and one of the most wonderful gifts I’ve been given.
There’s beauty in not knowing who you are, and even more beauty in learning about who you might want to be.
I have had a twelve-year plan on my wall since I was ten years old, and I am so fucking grateful it all fell through and came crashing down.
Because now, at the young age of twenty-six, I get to keep playing tourist and hopping cities for as long as I want.
I want to feel full of life. I want to be young and dumb, but most importantly, I want to be free.
Thank God I never settled down.
And thank God I ran away from Tennessee when I did.
I think a little part of me always knew that if I left my hometown, I could never go back. And I think that part of me was right.
Because why else would I be bawling in relief right now?
I was born a runner, and I’m not ready to stop running yet.