Something has me all tangled up lately and I am not even sure if I am allowed to justify my fear at this age. You see, I am yet to move away from my parents' home. While living at home into your adult years may be perfectly fine in Russia, it is not, at least in my mind.
I am twenty two as you may already know. While I am fully aware that this is still a relatively youthful age, I can't shake the feeling that I am always being judged as this silly girl who has no aspirations in life, no way of taking care of herself or even has the ability to clothe and feed herself. These are very wrong misconceptions.
The truth is that I have tried many times to move out of home, however each attempt has ended somewhat abruptly before it even began. I am not going to lie, money has had a great hand at my demise as has sickness, but also it has to do with people not wishing to move with me. Up until now I let it be though. I just figured that it was fine, and that it would give me more time to save my pennies and to buy yet another saucepan for the collection of moving out things.
So why has this all flooded back to the surface now? Love. You see, my longterm boyfriend is training to be a pilot. We are all entitled to our dreams and passion and he just happens to be incredibly driven and good at his. He is very supportive of me and my crazy dreams of writing books for a living so who am I to tell him how it is. My agreement to myself was that when his career was ready to take him somewhere far away, that it would be time for me to follow.
While it's not time to completely freak out, quit my job and sell all my belongings on ebay, it is time to start considering the next few months very closely. I don't need to buy new books that I probably will never read, buy clothing I will never wear or waste countless dollars on gourmet delicacies that don't hold enough nutrients. It is the time to make my money and time count for something more than it used to.
But I think it is more than this. I am scared. I have moved before. Three years ago actually. I moved here with my family from Sydney when I was nineteen and I left behind a full life. I had a lot of great friends and I had potential. When I came here it seemed it was all flipped on its head. This place still doesn't feel like home. Maybe I am a little scared that nowhere will ever feel like home again, and that home lies within my mind and how I perceive the universe around me.
I want this though. I feel this town has served its purpose for me. I have learnt lessons through the people I have associated with and I know who I will miss. I will miss my family, and the individuals who I have came to place at a level of importance so high that I would consider them family. It is the fear of the unknown and the fear of losing those I love that is holding me here. For once in my life, I think I need to vote against familiarity and choose to push myself. It is the only way to truly live.
However, as much as I am fearful, I am also elated to begin the next chapter of my life, of our lives. As a live-in couple. We will learn things about each other; strange little things like how many sugars we take in our coffee (mine, not his, he hates coffee) or if he sings in the shower. I guess the future is full of potential and we can either sit by the side lines, scared of the unknown or we can embrace it and be all that we can be, but more.