I move to New York today. I did it. I actually made it happen. Just a few weeks ago, I didn't have a clue as to what was going to happen. Now, I feel like it was suppose to happen like this. All the last minute scrambling, the nervous/anxious stomach aches I would give myself, and the lying I was doing to keep people off my case - it all paid off. I'm not sure what is to transpire while I'm out there, but one of the tough parts is over, now the real work begins. But I'm looking forward to that. I am interested to know what I am gonna do while I'm there. You know, up until now, I still hasn't hit me that I'm moving. It's only now that I have that small, anxious sensation within the pit of my stomach. I would often get these feelings when I had over-powering inklings of hope. Call me crazy, but it was like having a hand on my shoulder by a mystical force, letting me know that all the crappy chants I was saying to myself in my head were true and that everything was going to be okay. It's like I was psychic for a few moments and KNEW that I was going to be okay. But those moments last only a few seconds because as soon as I overcame it, I would go right back to panicking on the low. It's funny though, because I noticed that I never waived my plans. I remember my older sister and a close friend saying I should make an extension, that I shouldn't leave on this specific date. They definitely had valid points, which I will spare whoever is reading this, but it was not a doubt in my mind that I wouldn't get here. I knew that I was going to be able to do it, I didn't know how, but I knew and now I'm here with nothing but dust to brush off my shoulders. Even though I've yet to hit the streets of the city, this has been a major accomplishment for me and I'm excited to see what i do with my time there. I'm ready to hit the ground running, fuck it i may sprint. As much work as I still have to do, I must say - so far, so good.
