And going back…

Tomorrow my life begins. This usually means that I should be happy, right?

Why am I not happier? Because there are complications. Imagine if someone told you: “We have a seat available for an expedition to Mars. There’s just one snag: we don’t have enough fuel for a return trip.” Would that make a sane person reconsider? No? How about this? “We don’t have enough fuel to get you there. You will simply have to think of something before you run out.” Still want to go? That’s closer to my situation.

The weirdest thing about going is suddenly a lot people realize they are going to miss me. I was never truly aware that I mean something to anyone.

I’m still going.