I love change, don't get me wrong. I enjoy moving furniture a lot, I enjoy breaking out of ruts, I enjoy moving (well not the actual moving part), I enjoy so much about change. The new scenery, the new people, the new everything. I get so lost in the euporhia of the change it isn't until I'm knee deep into it that I realize just how terrifying it is. When I first decided to move to Michigan, I had my mind set, there was just not stopping me. I wanted to go back to school, and I just kept pushing forward without even thinking of it too much. Day after day, decision after decision I just kept moving forward. It wasn't until I had moved my stuff and my parents had gone away and I was driving around trying to find different things in the are when I completly fell apart and wondered what in the hell I thought I was doing. I remember sitting in my car balling because I had no idea what I was doing, I didn't know anyone, I didn't know where anything was, I knew ...
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