OK, about that...

So, naturally, as I expected, there are a hundred questions following the announcement that I intend to move to Oregon. 

My post was pretty vague because sometimes things just need to be vague. But, of course, anyone who knows me or who's read this blog one time in the last nine hundred years knows I'm typically not vague. You can literally read every detail about my entire life somewhere in the archives of this website. 

I'll probably regret that one day. Or love it. But, I digress...

Here are some answers, in no particular order, with some clarification:

I'm moving to Oregon alone. Well, technically not alone because I'll have the company of Luna and Chicken. Please, like I'd do anything in this life without my one true companion, Chicken. She is literally my entire world. My whole planet. I fucking love that cat more than life itself. It is my estimation that she and Luna will become fast friends during the 29-hour car ride across the country. 

Luna, my little rescue love, will become a mountain dog. Honestly, she's happy as any kind of dog. Smelly dog, chewy dog, bed dog, floor dog, sprawled-on-her-back-in-the-middle-of-the-street dog. She's just happy. I knew the moment I met her giant, toothy smile that I was meant to save her. Chicken still isn't too certain, but if I'm going to traipse across the country by myself, having those two (battling each other) by my side will make it entirely more tolerable. 

I am terrified to move across the country by myself. 

I am also incredibly excited to move across the country by myself. 

These two feelings are at eternal war with each other in my soul. Alone, in general, will be new. But it was my choice to be alone, and it was an incredibly difficult decision. It was also my choice to move across the country. No one forced me. It's just something I want to do, which is hard to wrap my mind around. 

Why want to move away? Why want to leave behind my life and my fantastic friends and the amazing normal I've created here? 

I don't know, and that's what makes this very hard.

Just yesterday I was convinced I couldn't do it. I just couldn't move. What about all the plans I want to make with my friends next year? What about my favorite local races? What about my family? The pit in my stomach felt enormous yesterday. 

But already this morning I daydreamed about forming not a new community in Bend, but an additional community. A complement to the amazing life I've cultivated in my home state. An expansion of the beautiful universe I built around me. 

But then the fear. What if I can't? What if no one befriends me? What if I cry myself to sleep? What if I drive to work every day in a panic because my heart and soul live two days away? 

Always, always the "what if?" 

Before I can move, I need to find someone to sublease my current home. Or I need to wait until June, which is not ideal in the least. And then I need to find somewhere to live in Bend. The logistics overwhelm me.

I worry this is too much change at once. Being alone. Moving 2,000 miles away. All at once. But then I think, what better time? What better time to begin a new adventure? Or what worse time? I'm nearly 34 years old and about to uproot everything I've ever known. There are still things I want for myself. A family, for one. Particularly before I'm 45 years old. Is it too late for me to start fresh? 

I have no answers to these questions or this doubt. It just sits in my head, causing me to chew my fingernails to nubs and eat pizza on the regular for comfort.

I think of waking up in a new home, wandering to the window to see mountains on the horizon, and the exhilaration swells. I imagine running in a beautiful new place, breathing in the smell of jasmine, and joining new friends for coffee afterward. I imagine just being me in a new place, full of possibility. 

And then I imagine crying at night because I'm scared. Or feeling overwhelmed because I'm lonely. 

In truth, probably all of those things will happen. Maybe all in the same day. But how will I know unless I try? I'm risking nothing. My job is here. My job is there. Like they say, I can always, always come home. 

I just never imagined a world where home would not be here. But I guess, as they also say, home is where the heart is. So maybe I'll just have two homes.