As usual, when one stands on the edge of a precipice, they feel something like fear and excitement combined. Especially when they look over the edge and down into the dark.
I've been procrastinating packing because, someplace deep in my heart, I feel like this is a turning point. That the moment I get on the plane there's no turning back.
Right now, I feel as if I'm standing on a knife's edge and I can fall either way. But I also know I can't stay where I'm at because standing on a blade is cutting my feet and making it harder and harder to stand at all.
Perhaps I can learn to fly?
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