I have been counting down for a while now. Counting down the months, weeks, and days until most things change, while wondering what will remain the same. Questioning my decision to make this choice. Yet, knowing that there was never really a choice to be made.
I have spent a lot of my life waiting. Waiting for the right time. Waiting for the perfect opportunity. Waiting until I got that degree, then this degree, as if obtaining those things would make things right, perfect, and timely. At times I wanted to wait until it wouldn’t just be me but we who would do this together. And I’ve waited for no other reason than to wait.
I wait no more.
I can’t stick around to see how much things will change if they change at all. I won’t stick around because things inevitably get better with time. I refuse to stick around to see where this would take me. I can’t stay because you, them, and damn near everyone I know wants me to stay but none of you know why I should. I won’t stay to keep from taking risks because honestly, staying is more of a risk than leaving. And I refuse to stay because no one else has left (with success).
Today marks three months until I move from right to left. Mostly everyone I know has tried to talk me out of this. Yet, I’m done.
I’m done with trying to make something work when it wasn’t a good fit to begin with.
I’m done crying over things that I have no control over.
I’m done with pretending that all of this is OK when I know that it is nowhere near fine with me.
I’m done wishing I were somewhere else other than here, for so many reasons outside of the obvious.
I’m done with the stress of settling for less and postponing my best.
I’m done shouldering the mental responsibility of them.
I’m done ‘hiding,’ fighting, trying, lying, and ‘dying.’
I’m done for the best reason … for me to be done with it all.
