Tomorrow morning at 5:30am my father is getting on a plane to Vancouver for a second job interview. This means one of two things: he gets the job and he and my mother move to Vancouver, or, he doesn't get the job and he and my mother stay here in Winnipeg.
I would not move to Vancouver with them. I would either stay here or move to Toronto. If they stay in Winnipeg, I would most definitely move to Toronto. I think it's time for me to live on my own anyway. I guess this is the definition of "growing up" and I guess I've been waiting for this type of decision to present itself to me ever since I can remember.
I never thought I'd have this sort of "coming of age" defining moment that is so common in the books they make you read in high school. I always thought it would be an easy transition between childhood and adulthood, you know, smooth, barely noticeable. I didn't anticipate this at all.
There are a million and one metaphors and cliches for this circumstance, like when you're at the edge of a really cold pool and you know you just have to jump and hope to swim and hope it's not as cold as it looks.
This is sloppy but fuck it, I have no idea what I'm going to do and I am very very scared about a lot of things.