The countdown begins...

2+ months before the next move and I can't help but feel the familiar sense of apprehension. What are the chances that this move will be as good as the last?

As the time slowly ticks by, the mixed feelings begin to increase immensely. On one hand, I'm excited. It's gonna be the first time I'm moving without the family. It'll be a journey of my own. An adventure. My chance to grow as a person with lesser influence from them... Ironically, the factors that make me excited are the same factors that make me dread this move. What if things don't work out like how I dream it to be? I think one of the things that scares me the most is how much I might change. What if I don't like future me...? So many questions and uncertainties. 

This is the stage before the move where you begin to treasure all the moments so much more. You appreciate the friends, the company and the memories so much more than before. All you want to do is make memories to last a lifetime because after this, things may never be the same. And it gets me every time... I hate this part right here, but I love it at the same time. Every thing means much more at this point. You love more, you live more. 

Tick tock. Time moves on...