I'm sitting on top of my cradling bed. The edges of anticipation are crawling up my veins and singe the insides of my eyes into such a brilliantly frustrating Awake state.
There is no cure for this insomnia caused by excitement. I would trade it for nothing. It swirls behind my eyelids. I think of all the lists I have made. All the things I have bought. What I may forget. What I will fail to prepare for. Mostly I just lay in the darkness thinking of how much life has blessed me. How much I have changed in such a short time. How much everyone tells me I will change after this next month. I think of my mother. I think of how she worries.
Tonight I went out with her. I am going to miss her so much. I am going to miss everyone. I can't wait to taste the panic of culture shock. The pain of wanting normal.
I can feel the crinkled pangs of homesickness begin to seep into me.
I have been waiting for Africa for so long now.
Yet it feels like three minutes ago I was sitting at my desk after a drained new years, writing a series of lists, and the idea of going to Africa became a sure reality.
I have no idea what to expect.
Which is the perfect thing to anticipate. Nothing. Everything.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
That is absolutely amazing. (:
ReplyDelete