6-13

...days left if that's more your style

^-Weeks that is. Because in six weeks, I'll be leaving everything behind for thirteen weeks. The reality of what "everything" is, is slowly catching up to me. Not too long ago, it seemed like more of a "nothing". And I guess sometimes I still find myself thinking that way, depending on the day. Looking at the weeks remaining to weeks spoken for ratio, it's seeming to be a little more like an "everything" kind of day.

My day to day interactions with people, the very thing that once made me yearn to be gone, now make me feel a little more sad to put them behind me. The customers at work, my co-workers, my friends, my family... I'm kind of just taking myself out of that mix for 3 whole months and diving right into an entirely different mix. One where language barriers alone may cut my potential for mixture-diversification down to nothing. And what about the state of things back here while I'm gone? What can happen to everyone in those 90 days?

And what about the choice to leave versus the choice to stay? I could have been promoted by now at work, be going to school this semester, or even just NOT blowing through my savings of the last six months. Instead I'll be spending 3 months seeing pretty things, spending several thousand dollars, and trying to "find myself". I mean to some people (Yeah I'm looking at you, future employers) don't like to hire dirty hippy-communist world travelers.

Some days, it does all get to be a little bit frightening. But I knew that going into this. And for every bad day, there are like 10 great days. Cloudy as this path may be, it's the one that I know is the right one for me to take. And aside from being made a fool of in public, mugged, raped, murdered, tortured, or held hostage by terrorists... whats the worst that can happen? The self-fulfillment alone of having chased my dream will at least make future dream hunting that much easier.

And so it begins...

Well, here I go. I've bought the ticket, and so begins the actual "trip" feeling. Now I can't say I'm all talk, because I've bought covered the most expensive single piece of the trip that money buys. It's a funny feeling really. I am flying as cheap as I possibly can and am now locked in, something that should make you feel uneasy and wary of the reliability of your flight. But for me, right now, it's like I'm locking myself into it all. And there's a lot to be said for that.

One year ago, I was selling candy bars to my wonderfully generous and hungry (but mostly just hungry) fellow high school dwellers. Wondering why I wasn't going to college next year. Wondering what I'd be doing when I got back from my one month summer trip. Wondering why I didn't have college plans or even a job to come back to. Fast forward a few months, I land a job, one that is actually fine with me taking a month of absence from the country. Fast forward a few more months and I'm drinking water falling from the top of an Alpine mountain. Words can not describe how amazing my one month to German-speaking Europe was. From the second the jet lag wore off- no, before that even. I knew I was in some strange kind of love.

And I do mean love. Love for a place, it's people, it's style, it's sights, it's attitudes, it's... well a lot of stuff. Words don't do the feeling any justice as I'm sure you can ask anyone whose been lucky enough to feel it. And I didn't just feel it. Ask anyone who had the, we'll say "pleasure" of having me sit there and talk their ear off about the amazing things I had seen and done; I was dripping with passion for everything life had to offer. Even as I recall the memories, I'm getting all warm and fuzzy inside. And as overjoyed as I was to have been a part of it all, the reality of reality played a pretty big role in taking me down a few pegs.

And as quickly as I became accustomed to hearing everyone around me speak German, I was back to answering the drive thru and steaming milk. The shine was just a corner of my brain filled with memories that people were slowly getting more and more tired of me bragging about. The future was bleak because it was empty.  How could an empty future compare to such an amazingly vibrant past? I was happy, in my day to day life. I loved my job, my coworkers, and my regulars... but I was slowly noticing I had a heart that, by yearning, was slowly breaking.

Fast forward a few more months and a long-time friend and now coworker, tells me that he's planning to backpack in Europe and that (and here's where it all really turns around): I can come with him, if I want. It's history what my answer to that was. And just like that I was saving. I was back to selling candy bars to generous and thirsty (but mostly thirsty) consumers to feed my newly discovered dream. Not caring that I didn't have college plans. Not caring that I'd have to leave the job I so desperately wanted not too long ago.

Now, here I am. My ticket bought, my bank account generously fed. And I'm full of passion again. And dang it, I'm getting that warm and fuzzy feeling again.