Breakaway

Leaving home isn't ever easy. That's for certain.

Yet leaving home also isn't something that is new to me. In high school, most summers were marked by leaving home for several weeks to experience new people, places, and things without my family and closest friends. Each experience is preceded with intense emotions, tears, and the chaos of needing to spend quality time with every person that means the most to me. The day of departure seems to be the hardest day of your life, leaving behind everything that is familiar and comforting to go to strange and new situations. The first and hardest day passes and reality sets in. All is better and life in this new place goes on.

Assuredly there are times of homesickness or distress, but ultimately, each experience has been fruitful beyond measure, forming myself into a better and more full person. Thankful for the experiences, the memories, and the new friends, my time there is over. In the end, returning home is always just as hard as it was leaving in the first place.

This trip shall be no different.

I've already got the feelings of anxiety, the times of crying, and a chaotic schedule of seeing all my family and friends prior to my departure. I've gone through this before; my family has gone through this before. Despite this, my time in Ireland will be unlike any of my other trips.

Four months is a long time to be away from home; in fact, it is the longest I've ever been away. No chaperones, no one to answer to. This trip is about me and I get to plan the entire thing. For the first time in my life, I'm truly on my own.

I've got twelve days to come to terms with that.
Twelve days until I'm a full-fledged adult in a different country.
Twelve days until I breakaway.