My life has been a series of predictable chapters.
At the beginning, my parents held my hand and guided me down the garden path. It was simple - play group, primary school, secondary school. Packed lunches, patted heads, words of reassurance, nods of acceptance. Easy.
Then came a choice - but looking back, it wasn't really a choice. There was another destination in mind - that destination being a degree - but I got to choose which path I wanted to get there.
And now for the first time in my life, I don't know where I'll be in six months.
Have you ever taken a step back and thought about how big the world is? How many people there are to meet, how many places there are to go, how many things there are to see? It's weird and wonderful but also extremely frightening. I feel too young - the ripe old age of 21 - to fully comprehend the consequences of my decisions.
I know I want to write. That's all I've ever wanted. But getting there is tough. And there's no one holding my hand anymore. It's not a garden path...it's a forest, gnarled branches and sweeping undergrowth. It's unknown territory.
But if things are to progress, things are to change. And for change to happen, something must begin and something must end. So in saying goodbye to the best three years of my life, I'm allowing myself to move forward, no matter how hard it feels.
To starting something new, finishing something old and taking life one step at a time.
