If You're Gonna Be In a Boat...

"I think we're in somewhat similar boats..." says Rachel. She might not be able to tell, but I'm crying. I wipe at my eyes and hope nobody walks into my office. What she means is that we both tend to think of others before thinking about ourselves...in that case, I say to her: "No. We're in exactly the same boat. And that's alright. Because if you're gonna be in a boat to begin with then...you might as well have some company." I say this to her after she has spent 1 hour and 22 minutes talking to me and telling me everything is going to be okay. Everything is this: I have made a decision. I am moving to Arizona. When isn't quite determined yet. I know I will finish out the fall semester. If I don't have the money, a job or an apartment by that time, then we'll just see how soon I can get one...but hopefully it won't be long after the fall. Hopefully it's as soon as possible. For a couple weeks now I have been struggling with this decision and I haven't talked about it until recently. I wanted to wait. To wait for the day when Rachel went back too but...I know if I don't go now...I never will. And I didn't blog about it because I wanted to discuss it with my mom first. I realize that I may have presented a skewed impression of my mom with some of my previous posts, but let me say this - I love my mom. She and I have always been she and I. A team. And leaving her will be the hardest thing I ever have to do. She comes to me when she is low and I go to her in my darkest moments. I have been treating her terribly because of my own unhappiness - and today she laughed it off and told me that all she wanted was to see me happy. She gave me the okay. I have waited all my life for that okay. All this time, with my mom struggling with her own turning point in life - her last kid off to school - I thought she'd lost a sense of spirit. But it shined yesterday when she told me that she wanted to see me try something new...and be happy. Before I talked to her last night, Rachel just happened to call me. She was worried about me, being as that I hadn't been very talkative lately and the stress of everything was too much and I caved. I have been unhappy for a long time. Every night I come home to feelings of emptiness and nothingness. When my mother calls me, I snap at her, simply because she asks me if I'm at home - and I'm always at home. Most of all, I've stopped growing. I need to gain perspective. I need to find a life for me somewhere. I need it more than I've ever needed anything in my life. On the phone in my office, I cry when Rachel tells me that no matter what she is behind me. I cry knowing that she understands. I cry when I realize the bond of the moment, because she is the company in my boat. When I tell my mother about my decision I cry because I love her so much. And because all this time I thought I had to be strong for her - and she was the one being strong for me - stronger than I could ever hope to be. Stronger than the Arizona sun. And right now, as I sit here, I know there is so much more to say. But I think that is enough for now.