volatility

The plan always was to move back home, but only for the summer. As soon as the house re-filled in September, I would be out. Yet, all along, I allowed myself the option of considering the ever so slight possibility that I may want to stay at home. And now that I’ve gotten rather comfortable living at home, astoundingly enough (or not?), it is no longer, “I’m moving,” but it has become “should I move?” So one day I’m determined to release myself from this shtetal, to continue in my hopeless bout to beak free (from what I'm not sure), or at least to experience more of the great big world, and the next day, when I go look at apartments, and get a glimpse of the life I could be living next year, I want to stay just where I am...I think: I’m happy at home, why move? My family is here, my friends are here, I’ve learned to enjoy my subway commute, I even grown fond of the CH gym, so why spend more than half my paycheck to move across town to a place that could very well make me miserable? Because I won’t let myself stand still? I’ve been here over a month now, and each day is, in most respects, just like the day before. Comfortable? Yes. But it won’t do. I’m not quite sure I have a rational explanation for why*. Or one for why I’m constantly subjecting myself to situations I’m so afraid of. Why, again and again, I insist on venturing out into the unknown, alone. Why I won’t permit myself the luxury of just drifting.

*I have plenty of rational explanations for why I should move, but not really one for why I should move given that I want to stay.