leaving not losing.

With a week left to go in my countdown to London I find myself with a set of conflicting emotions. An overwhelming excitement builds within me as I daydream about my first few moments in London. Will I comprehend where I am? Will I be too tired to care? Or will I run out immediately and begin enjoying the city-life that I have been eagerly anticipating? Probably a mixture of all three. Though I have spent the past year thinking about my stay in London, I know that the minute I am there, none of that will matter. My daily devotion of imagining where I'll visit, who I'll meet and even what I'll wear will dissipate as reality sets in. It will be scary -- it will be awesome.

I've always loved doing things that push me. I believe that you cannot find the edge of comfort if you do not seek to surpass it. In many ways, this trip is about pushing outward. I'm leaving Elon, a place that I love to be, despite my constant criticism. I'm leaving the comfort of family a half-dozen states away. I'm leaving chances that I would have taken and opportunities that I would have met. I'm leaving a boyfriend with whom I am very much in love. I'm leaving the three jobs which have helped finance this endeavour. I'm leaving a little brother who turns 13 too soon for me to believe. I'm leaving friends who say they'll keep in touch -- but we'll see. Yes, indeed, I am leaving a lot.

What I do keep telling myself which helps to stifle my fears is this: "Olivia. You are leaving, not losing." Because really, everything I am leaving will not be lost. Different -- probably. But certainly not lost.