It's just different

Zemanta suggested the photo, so I included it. (Photo credit: Amanda M Hatfield)

I've moved several times in my life. Some might even call me a bit of a gypsy, and that's fine by me. I like that one day I'll be able to tell stories of life in Slave Lake, Toronto, Edmonton, Tampa Bay, New York City, Vancouver and soon, Dubai.

If you ask me, it makes me colourful.

This move, however, feels bigger. Each emotion feels heightened, each moment feels more significant.

I don't know if it's because I'll be leaving behind a man I've been waiting a very long time for, or if it's the considerable distance and cultural differences that await me on January 14th.

Regardless, this move feels bigger.

As excited as I am, I get a pit in my stomach when I think about not seeing my friends, family and the boy I love for many months. I can't say two words about how much I'm going to miss everyone and everything without breaking into tears.

Now, this doesn't mean I'm questioning my decision - you don't say no to your dream - but it does mean that this move comes with more sadness than I originally expected. And I think we're all aware of how bad I am at emotions.

I'm becoming a bit of a mess.

14 days and counting.