My plane ticket came in the mail today.

I don't want to pretend like I'm not leaving, but something about each day that goes by makes this a little less comfortable and a lot more real. Everyone is getting more teary and not making eye contact as much. My list of to-dos are getting longer while the days get shorter. I'm running out of time to say good-bye and time to get my life in order before it is put on hold for a year.

I am excited. I know it might seem that I'm not. The moments where I'm bubbling over are almost always very private and short lived. It's usually when I see a picture of the streets there or when I imagine the festivals. I know I want this, and I want it more than I am scared. But in the meantime, the scary part is taking over my every thought.

The worries I have are usually nothing to do with where I will live, or what cell phone I will buy. I'm confident that those details will fall into place and nothing I can do now will guarantee that it will run smoothly. However, I am nervous, and almost weak, to imagine it.

Maybe it's just that first hill of the roller coaster where you really aren't sure why you ever got on the ride in the first place. "Oh man. Just please lets this be over quickly and painlessly." Even on the first big drop you are seriously reconsidering your decision to ride. I mean, it sounded like a good idea at the time. Not until the drop is over and you are hurtling around the next bend do you realize everything will be great and you actually start to smile....and then laugh. Deep down, I know it will eventually smooth out and ultimately be an exciting adventure.

I just... I gotta get there before I can start to laugh.