Some days, I just feel like taking off.
The thing that always stops me though, is whether or not I'll come back.
I like to think that I would.
But once I actually see the world, or at least a part of it that isn't here,
I'll know that isn't really true.
Whenever I leave the house I grew up in I think to myself,
I'll be back,
"If I left," some crazy things go through my mind when I think that.
What if I'm gone too long?
What if I went back, but they weren't there?
What if I went back and they were there?
What if they were there, but they pretended like I never was?
The thing with fears though,
The only way to get over them,
Is to face them.
I would like to say that I'm a risk taker, totally tough, a badass if you will.
The type of person who jumps out of planes and swims with sharks and kills their own spiders.
But the truth is,
I cry at sad movies, and sometimes I don't leave my house for days on end because it's too cold.
Don't even get me started with spiders.
I suppose that one day I will leave.
And maybe I won't ever come back.
And maybe I will.
But today is not that day.