colors

This week has been full of the bittersweet. All within three days, I signed my letter of intent for my job here in Virginia and also received my passport- just in time to go to D.C. over my spring break to apply for my visa- which, of course, I don't have to do anymore.

I told a little girl today in that singsongy voice we (for some reason) use with kids, "green doesn't look good on you!"
can any of my friends tell me if...green looks good on me?

I don't know how I feel, exactly. I feel certain in my choice that it was best. What color is certainity? A steady, tranquil, blue? I feel excited, elated, giggly, and ready for the future, and I'd call that color bright orange, maybe.

There's that nagging sense of green. A little jealous, and maybe a little grief. It's so ironic that I mentioned below about all major choices carrying tiny strings of regret...and now I literally feel those strings, dangling invisibly behind me where ever I walk.

Loss, regret, and jealousy are heavy feelings. They can hit you at any time. They can hit you when you start cracking up in the car and reach for your phone, only to slowly pull your hand back when you remember that your call is not welcome. I remember, during a breakup, the time I missed him most was when I would leave work for the day, because that was the time I called him every day, without fail. It's those mundane, every day moments when loss hits you like a punch in the face. That is literally how it feels
every.
single.
time.
A punch in the face, a punch that says Imissyou and I'msorry and didIchooseright and ohmygodwhatamIdoing and doesthisfeelinggoaway...all at once.

I know I made the right choice. I feel strong and steady in that, and don't get me wrong, I am so excited. God has big and major plans for me, and I can't wait to begin.

I watched that kiddo's brother make swirls of color on his paper, faster and faster, until all the colors bled together into a swirl of greyish muck. If you looked closely, you could see wispy greens, bright reds, and soft blues peekly out of the curves of his swirls.

His sister looked distainfully at his colors and said, "He's making a yucky mess". I reflexively said, "Maybe he likes his mess. Maybe that's just the way he likes it."

Well....

decisions, decisions.

What makes a decision? Is it fear of success, or fear of failure? Is it trying to stay, or trying to go? The desire for comfort, or escape?

I've repeated a lot of phrases lately, as follows:

This is the only time in my life I'll be able to do this.

If I don't do this, I'll regret it forever.

The things you regret in life are the things you don't do.

A year isn't so long. It'll be over in the blink of an eye.

For someone who has been so fond of sprouting out those cliched phrases lately, what the hell do they mean, anyway? A year "may not be so long", but think about everything that can change in a year. Life, death, marriages, divorces, loss, gain, grief, joy.

How do you make a decision like this? How do you decide to leave everything you've ever known, to fly out into the unknown? How do you leave the very things that make you feel safe, happy, and loved? How do you leave the very people that complete you? The people who hold you up when you feel most down? Who am I without those people? Am I just scared to find out? When you strip away everything I claim makes me ME, when you strip away everything I've built myself upon, what's left, exactly?

People have such faith in me that I'll make the "right" decision. Is any decision ever right? Or does every decision have tiny strings of regret and wonder attached? Is it human nature to lie awake and wonder what if what if what if?

No worries. It's just a year, after all. This is the only time in my life I'll be able to do this, and I'll totally regret not doing it. After all, it's the things you don't do in life that you end up regretting.

Right?