Slipping Away

Posted by meli on Tuesday, November 27, 2012 in travel | No comments

The road is calling.
I want desperately to answer her.
To go.
Feel her, smell her, be her.
Yet, I'm hesitant.
Stuck.
Feeling too far away.
Removed.
Like maybe she's calling to someone else.
Or maybe her cries are those of sorrow.
Regret.
Missed opportunity.
Did I miss it.
Is she gone.
That can't be.
Breath still fills my lungs.
Possibility never dies.
Why then.
Why do I feel her slipping through my grasp.
Further and further away.


Perspective.
It should come in a convenient snack pack sized juice box. If we can bottle up and sell energy in 5 hour increments; surely we can whip up some perspective. Maybe wine bottle size would be better. Although, what would I have to write about if not perspective.

We're still here. In my Grandparents driveway. Teetering between feeling like we could leave "tomorrow", and feeling like we're not any closer to leaving then we were 2 months ago. Most of our RV repair parts came in, but there were several pieces missing from our order (paid for) that we're trying to sort out. We're dealing with the "flood of 2012" in the back room (the kids' room) right now. A musty mildewy smell that has turned my stomach upside down and inside out. The puking is non stop. I think soon I may puke up some lasagna that I consumed when I was 13 years old; there can't possibly be anything left in there. Their mattresses and carpet are soaked. Soaked, soaked, soaked. So that's been a whole lot of fun. And our finances are not at all where we expected them to be before we headed out. All of this has prevented us from being able to hit the road yet.

A shift in perspective tells me that "things" will always and forever pop up. The real question is why are we letting them hold us back. Fear? Probably.

It's been almost 9 months since we first moved into this RV. 9 months of mostly sitting in one spot has lead to some serious meltdowns about even wanting to stay in this rig home of ours. Without the travel, living in an RV is just not enjoyable for me anymore. I'm feeling a need to stretch a little bit. Feel more stable. Seems if we don't get on the road soon; this whole travel dream will be smoke. Smoke because I'll have murdered it. With my bare hands. Or maybe I'll use a knife. I haven't yet decided.

I think this timeless transition period is definitely getting to me.

And digging into fear is not my favorite thing.

Digging in while feeling trapped.

Trapped because of the need to dig in.

Viscous little cycle.

Fear is a bitch.

Shit or get off the pot.

I can't sit still in this thing much longer.