One Month

12 Feb

…and I’m scared as fcuk.

No one to cook food, do laundry, change the sheets, clean the bathroom, throw the trash nor attend to my needs.

No one to assist me with school and work stuff, help with my artsy stuff nor back me up when I cram.

No familiarity of language, of the place, of the people, of the culture, of the rules… both clear-cut ones and the unspoken.

No car to bring me to places, nor near beaches for a quick vacation. No comfort food easily available. (Hello, Chicken Joy.) No quick patch when I’m down. No fun stuff that I am used to.

No family, friends and significant other when I need someone around me, neither when they need me to be around them.

No comfort that my own room gives when I need to be alone, nor toys and book collections that divert me when I need an upper.

No little cousins and godchildren. No pet dog too. No little bundles of joy. No happy pills.

No love around to calm my anxious self. No kisses. No hugs. No cuddles. No sex. No orgasms. No conversations. No reassuring conversations.


There are lots of changes and challenges to endure, and lots of adjustments to do. People tell me it’s going to be fine. They tell me it’s a good way to know myself better and see how much more I can push myself. They tell me it’s going to be exciting, to immerse oneself in a new place. They tell me it will be a great learning opportunity, and not to mention, (somehow) it’s financially rewarding. Plus, traveling, lots of things to see and experience. Their list of the pros are endless.

But for today, even just for today… will you allow me to be scared? Because I am.

One month to go and I am scared as fcuk.



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