Come with me. This is happening.

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LaylaToday is the first day of something different.

When my fur-baby was killed the month before last, within the same year of being abandoned by four of the people I thought would always be there, my life was spun off it’s access.

Fighting to survive has been like trying to swim through an ocean of nightmares and dark water. When I planned a trip home to San Diego along with booking so many of the things things that had long bee on my bucket list, I no longer cared. I moving on instinct, as there was nowhere else to go.

Going home to SD was the first step in a direction that threw me off a cliff of the crumbling memory of what my life used to be. I was still an out-of-control mess hurling my bruised and battered soul in this direction, but in some way the trip seemed to do the only thing that there was still to do. It forced me to face the skeletons in the closet of my past and heart that I had being trying so hard to keep trapped inside.

And then I came back.

Today is that first day, and everything feels different. After 18 years, I am finally finishing my bachelor’s. After years of telling myself I would do so, I am finally going to Reggae on the River and Burning Man. Fifteen years after my first attempt to move out of the country, I am doing it. In 3 months, I will be living in Thailand.

I can feel it now. My world is changing. A bigger change than I have gone through in this adult life.

Come with me. This is happening. And it’s only going to get more exciting.

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3 Responses to Come with me. This is happening.

  1. Raynebeau says:

    You better have a room or cot for my visit!

  2. Stephen Matejov says:

    I am Happy for you and will enjoy reading about your new adventures. I visited Thailand (US Navy) and the one thing I remember from the (before you go ashore) briefing: Do not take the paper money and slap the bill face down on a flat surface with the royal personage hitting the table. It is an insult to the country. Or something like that. Happy trails to you..

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