Really?

I could swear I posted something here since January. Absolutely. Perhaps it was something I wrote in my head while driving home from work, or during a meeting or when trying to fall asleep. Must remember to write those down. Must find the bits of scraps of paper and such on which I have jotted down epic poems and first lines to award-winning novels.... This girl is all potential; so long as it is never realized I can maintain the fantasy of "coulda been...."

Q

Tear along dotted line....

I have discovered that leaving home is the same whether 17 or 43...it sucks. Saying goodbye to mom---no matter that a lifetime has been lived in the interim--is heart-breaking. Driving away, mom waving at the window, is like pulling oneself from the womb, grabbing and fighting the urge to return to the warm safety. The incessant "this is a good thing, right?" reverberating through the mind...What have I done? What have I become? Is it all enough?

It's the double-edged sword of a good family...you love them so much it tears you apart to leave. And in that pain is the confirmation of a job well done.

Q