My world feels like it's being torn apart by a storm and scattered to the four corners.
And yet...there's a feeling of pause, anxiously waiting for what comes next. The eye of the storm that lulls the false sense of security, but I know better.
The storm will rage on.
I'm in the position of standing on my own two feet, no crutch in sight. Oh, they'll pick me up if I fall, but I will have to fall first.
I remember being 13, so excited for the first step into adulthood. I thought about growing up as all kids do. The excitement to be who I wanted to be, do what I wanted to do, become the person I could never be then.
This is the first step I've had to do all that. That 13 year old girl believed I'd have it all figured out by now. Yet I don't.
I know how to survive. I only know how to live in briefly stolen moments, knowing I may have to pay a price for my independence. The freedom to live by my own choices that will make me happy is a dream with new fire in it. There's the fear it'll be put out. Or succeed. The excitement of having the first taste of what being free means.
Today the storm will hit. Only the Fates know what will happen next.