In my travel journal, I wrote about how I couldn't wait until October came along, because it would feel like an accomplishment.

I left something out. Purposely.

I also can't wait until October comes because it's one step closer to leaving this place. Although I didn't lie- I do love it here... I'm fucking anxious to start my life.

I want to find My Place. My nitch. My space. A house. A job. A life with Him. I want, I want, I want! I'm tired of living aimlessly. I'm tired of not having any goals. I'm tired of living places for 4-6 months and then moving again. I'm tired of living my life alone.

Although I've had very meaningful relationships, I've always known they were going to end, they're not worth passing up on my next trip, my next stage in life...

I'm never going to stop travelling. It's my biggest passion in life. It's the thing that I will sacrifice almost anything to do. But! I want to have a place to go home to. I want to be an adult, and most of all, know that I made the choice to be the adult.

The difference between me and some people is that they get caught up in shit jobs, they accidently get pregnant (or get someone pregnant) and they're suddenly forced into being an adult, and they feel stuck and unhappy and wasted. Me? I've done things in my life. I started early... I've accomplished most of what I've wanted to accomplish. This next trip to Europe (in five months!!) will allow me to reach more of my goals... I've always wanted to visit Venice. I've always wanted to take a trip around the UK. I've wanted to visit places WITH someone, not just bumping into nice people along the way, and deciding to spend a couple of days together.

I've got goals. I've got adult goals. For the first time in my life, I've got goals, and it feels fucking good. Though I'm still staying strong to my belief that planning things is stupid, it's nice to have a general idea of things that I want to do in my life.

That nitch is so close, I can taste it.