It's the familiar time of life--transition.

I packed up my beautiful, but heavy, books in crate boxes today.  I went through like I was performing an execution--only certain books made the cut.  I can't even really tell you how I judged them, other than split-second decisions about cover, literary merit, and readability.  I'm moving in...3 weeks.  I can't imagine being on my own.  Firstly, because I'm not financially ready.  I won't graduate until December--I'll be shoved out into the world, ready or not.   I use graduate school as a beloved crutch to lean on, when people ask me what I do, it's a fall back.  A well-worn, familiar, crutch.

In December, I'll have no excuses.  Nothing keeping me here except for a lease that runs until the following October.  I flip through the photos of my adventures; it's a reminder that there is a whole world of opportunity, waiting patiently.  Then, I have this other side of me, the practical side...what about Bella? Bella is like my child, she is a responsibility.

Why is it whenever Kenny is coming home, I'm itching to start another adventure? We need to stop flip-flopping.

People used to ask that fateful question--where do you see yourself in 5 years?

In 5 years, I'll be 29 going on the big 3-0. Holy shit.

What an interesting place to be at--somehow, I ended back up at the beginning of starting my life.  After graduation, I fled away to Spain.  After Spain, I buried myself in books and graduate school.  Now, I'm doing what I'm supposed to love and I'm wondering if there is some compromise to be made between kids, english, teaching and writing.

I want to publish a book.

I want to finish writing my story.  I want it to be honest.

I don't want to fail.

I guess I shouldn't be worrying about 5 years from now, I barely know what to anticipate from the next few months.

You won't believe that last night we sat wedged in a diner booth, sharing a reese's milkshake, grumbling about our lack of forethought in consuming two cheeseburgers and a handful of french fries.  I've never sat on the same side of the booth as anyone before.  It's nice to really laugh and be in the moment.   Afterward, we went and saw "The American" with George Clooney.  We kissed like teenagers in the opening credits and before he dropped me off at my house.  I'm not sure why awkward moments like this happen, but when we were talking in his truck, a group of 10 year olds took interest in our "car conversation" and kept trying to crawl up to the car.  I eventually, with lack of impulse control, honked the horn and scared the crap out of them.  Our serious moments are pepped with ridiculous shenanigans. Moments before, he stared at me, "I love you."  After, he told me he had wanted to say "I love you" atleast 10x throughout the night--I asked why he hadn't...perhaps I'll never understand why it's so hard right now.  He told me he can't believe how passionate he is about me, toward me, around me.  I inquired if that implied he didn't "trust" it altogether, and he said a better way to say it is, he's never felt passionate like this before.  I think our relationship is nothing but firsts.  I'm going to attempt this whole celibacy thing..it's just easier until all things are out on the table and we're an "us."  I wonder how long it'll last.  It's a small effort to maintain some sort of control over the situation..and after all, nothing is better than delicious courtship.