this is it

june 1

dear journal,

yep this is another sappy entry about how im going to leave home. i finally picked my decision of where to go and its amazon. i didn’t pick disney because i couldn’t imagine a life down in la where i would be happy. being stuck in traffic with no community and greenery would drive me insane. it does break my heart a lot going this route but at least up in seattle, i would be a lot happier. i have some friends up there, and i love the environment—except for the rain, which i know will be testing my patience, but every place will always have some sort of compromise, so i wont let that deter me.

i have less than two months left here. life has been everything i've ever wanted lately. i'm trying to soak in every moment because i know soon enough, this version of my life will only exist as a memory. i'm not crying about boys anymore. or school. or internships. the only thing i'm crying about now is how fortunate i am to live such a fulfilling life, and my biggest worry is leaving this place. there's a knot in my throat almost every day. growing up, i used to cry about my mom and dad dying someday. but i think what i'm realizing now is that this is the point in my life where they stop being the center of my everyday world. for the first time, i won't live with them, and there will no longer be a full house with my siblings and me after this. my little sister is going off to college this summer, and soon will my brother. the next time i come back, i will visibly see my grandparents and parents getting older, and that scares me. again, i feel like a kid not ready for this big world. i dont want to grow up. everything i have ever known is right here with me. my comfort people. my comfort places. the streets i've driven down a thousand times, and the dragon park within walking distance of my house where my dad took me almost every day as a kid, teaching me how to climb the monkey bars and cheering me on from below. my best friends live less than ten minutes away. my mom's cooking. family dinners. being able to call someone and see them that same day. the hardest part isn't moving. it's leaving behind the people who know all the little things about me. im afraid i wont find someone that will know me without needing an explanation for the tiniest things. where i can always unapologetically be me. because how am i ever going to find someone who knows that i like sitting at the very front of the bart with my legs up? or that when i'm too sad to leave my bed, a bowl of bun bò huế is usually enough to get me to the dinner table. or that when i just need to talk, i'll show up at my best friend's house unannounced, and there's always coconut juice waiting for me in the fridge. or that another friend would show up on the back street of my home in the middle of the night, knowing exactly when i needed a spontaneous adventure, so we would usually drive up to san francisco to see my favorite viewpoint. these friends of mine have been in my life for over ten years. they've seen every version of me—every heartbreak, every accomplishment, every phase i swore would last forever, and all the little pieces that make me who i am. they know me so well that they've become part of home itself. how will i ever find someone that even lives up to the friendships i've spent over a decade building? 

im terrified. i'll admit it. for all the times i've talked about wanting adventure, wanting independence, and wanting to leave, i never really thought about what it would feel like when the moment actually came. but you can only know as much as you've seen. i need to see what else is out there and who i'll become because of it. as much as it hurts, it would hurt even more to stay and spend the rest of my life wondering what could have been. i think if you asked me five years ago what success looked like, i would've told you it was getting a good job, moving to a new city, becoming independent, and building a life for myself. i spent so much of my life wanting what came next that i never stopped to think about what i would be leaving behind. but maybe that's a privilege in itself. to have a home that is so difficult to say goodbye to. to have friendships that make leaving feel impossible. to have parents and grandparents that i love so much that the thought of time passing scares me.

i can't believe that i made it this far, knowing that i basically yolo'd half of it. but i need to stop doubting myself because if the last few years have taught me anything, it's that ive always figured it out. every opportunity that felt too big for me somehow became something that i was capable of handling. i know that. so to future caroline, i hope you take full advantage of this opportunity. i hope you say yes to things that scare you. perhaps learn how to swim this time or snowboard/ski. go enjoy the beautiful nature up there. get drunk. have a fun romantic love interest. find friends to gossip with. network in the city and at your job. make mistakes! but especially learn from them. grow into someone you're proud of. i truly truly hope you build a life that feels just as full and meaningful as the one you're leaving behind. and most importantly, i hope you never forget how lucky you were to have a home worth missing.