Half-Done

So. My bookshelves have been stripped. All I'm left with is the row of my favourite books on top of my computer desk. There they are, Hobb and Nix and Fforde... My wax is sitting in a little shelf next to them, along with my jars of ink and a cork from a bottle of wine in Paris. On top of the books perches my address book, a book of Plath, some old letters and a strip of photos.

I'll really be leaving when that stuff is packed away. My bookshelves are empty, and Mum has even wiped the dust off.

Still plenty of things to pack, but it definately has started. It won't be long now and everything will be packed or stored or borrowed out, and I'll be on my way.

Last night was the turning point, I think. After a long conversation, I realised exactly how much I want to go. I'll miss everyone, but that's ok. My friends will be here, they always will. And I get to go off and have an adventure. I can't wait! If I could have left last night, I would have.

I'm not scared any more. I'm thrilled. I feel like I'm spreading my wings instead of huddling in the bottom of the nest. I'm flying away to have an adventure, and all I can do is smile about it.