the day i left.

I kept looking back at all my stuff packed in the back seat, reminding myself that it's real. And then I'd look back at it again, in disbelief.

I kept thinking of the people and the places I left in Connecticut, reminding myself that I won't be going back. This isn't vacation; this is my life. I don't live in Connecticut anymore.

I kept thinking about all of the time I spent wondering and praying and worrying about Nashville, reminding myself that I'm actually about to find out.

And then I talked to my mom on the phone. When we hung up, it hit me. That's how we talk now.

It's an incredibly bittersweet thing. It feels kind of like what Stephen Chbosky says in The Perks Of Being A Wallflower:

So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.

It's exactly like that.