Today it felt like someone drove me to a desert, pushed me out of the car and just drove away. No place to go, no one to meet and nothing to look forward to. I felt no sense of direction, no guidance and no solid ground to claim my own.
Actually, I didn’t just feel like this today. I’ve felt like this every day for about a month. In January I talked about how I want to travel for a year. I want to EXPERIENCE life. See things that will startle me, feel things I’ve never felt before…yadda yadda yadda…
I thought this whole “experience life and travel” thing was just a phase and that I’ll get over it and be normal again.
In an unhealthy way, it’s been affecting me. I feel angry, jealous, upset. I feel trapped, confused, heartbroken. I don’t want to sound like a Moaning Myrtle, but I genuinely get mad when I think of how I’m 22, still live at home and nothing remotely adventurous has happend to me since I travelled to Peru five years ago. Every time I think about it, I kick myself because I did not appreciate that trip as much as I would now.
I want to go back to a place where I don’t know anyone, where no one speaks my language, where I have no idea where I’m going. I always say I want to get up and go, but will I actually?
Whatever, I’m going to eat cheese fries and watch Chasing Liberty for the thousandth time and live my life through Anna Foster (I wish I was her).
It’s sad to say that the whole dropping me off in a desert thing, it actually seems like a pretty damn good idea at this point.