Change Hurts.

Change. I hate you. You’re so stupid and hard. Sure, you make me better, or whatever, blegh. But do you have to be so annoying about it?

You push me away from things I was used to, from places I know, from people I love.

You pull me towards a newer, more “me” me, towards far off places, daring humans that I might one day be so lucky to call friends, and the magic of the unknown.

The New is shiny and sparkly and, to the untrained eye, a prize so rare I should feel lucky to simply be here.

But I know what The New is up close. I know how the jagged edges can cut me when I least expect it. I know how The New contains so many nooks and crannies hidden around the nooks and crannies. I know the easiest thing to do is to get lost.

I know the deeper you go into The New the lonelier it gets.

Because with each step of discovery, you’re entering a land fewer and fewer people have ever stepped foot in.

Change. You’re harder this time. So much freaking harder, because, well, *looks around.* It’s harder cause I’m giving more of myself or whatever, blegh. Stop being so honest; it’s aggressive, a buzzkill.

You make me sit with my own thoughts because the old distractions are no more. You make me stand up and declare the most embarrassing parts of me because it makes me feel less alone.

You make me leave parts of my personality—or what I thought was my personality—behind, and now it feels like the person I came to know, that my world came to know, is gone.

But newer—or what I think is newer—parts of me are emerging. Some of my world is welcoming these parts with open arms, and some parts can’t hold me anymore. One day I’ll be okay with this. But today is not that day.

I’m scrambling to keep my old worlds together. I’m squeezing my eyes shut and crossing my fingers. I’m praying, vibing, asking God, the universe, and everyone’s crystals to help me grow spare arms and hands and legs if possible so there is enough room for the old and the new.

The extra appendages don’t come. (And thank goodness, finding three-legged pants would be a nightmare.)

Change. It’s not like I didn’t see this coming.

In fact, I strategically orchestrated a plan to ensure Change could happen. And yet.

The pit in my stomach and the chaos in my mind grow. Because moving across the country away from your family and friends to chase your dreams (whatever dreams are anymore) is scary or whatever, blegh. Stop complaining already, do you realize or fortunate you are? Why can’t you just make a video about those moments at Walmart or that person in corporate America  like everybody else. Unfollow. Mute. Defriend.

Change. I can’t stop it. And I know I shouldn’t.