He hides behind the details of it, and it does make sense, in a logical, straight-arrow sort of way. Then, when he is standing firmly in the security of the familiar, he is free to see what he was blind to in his panic. He is reminded that he despises the redundant daily matters. He remembers that he craves the passion of another life.
Yet he is afraid to make that leap. All the details -- the clothes, the posessions, the how and the when -- those are no problem. Or, at least, no emotional problem. Tossing clothing he wouldn't care for was nothing. Putting all his things -- spiritual, creative, and personal history -- into storage and making plans to sell it off was simple enough. Telling his friends that he would soon be departing was tough, yes, but we are all capable of keeping in touch. There aren't many he actually cares to keep forever anyway. (You know who you are, lovies, and you're all here to read this.)
It's the big picture that frightens. He is certain that the comfort of finally being free will more than make up for the losses. Still, the thought of leaving everything he knows is scary. Exciting, but... Scary.
And I'm not writing this with the expectation that I am invited anywhere or by anyone. I'm writing it because it's something I need to face. Which desire is greater? To live the life that I believe I was born to live? Or to stay "safe?"
And do you know what I really want? I want somebody to come along and tell me it's all okay. That I'll be taken care of, and safe, no matter what. That they will stand by and help me through anything. And... That I'm not just wanted, but something more. That I am missed, that I am needed.
And I don't think the person I need to hear these things from, would be willing to say them.
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I want to cry. I want my friends, and him. I want my safety, and my passion. I maintain that my best decisions are made on impulse. What is a guy to do when impulse is not an option? When preparations must be made, and fear has time to grab hold? I cannot be walked through life with a hand holding mine to guide me. It's not practical, and it's not fair to the one doing the guiding. I must learn to deal with this on my own. If for no other reason, I must because it only grips me when I am alone.
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