I am so cold, why don’t I just get up and adjust the thermostat? It would be so easy, yet I continue to sit here trembling. The heat just clicked on. Maybe I’m not cold at all. I think all this catching up has caught up with me. All these emotions are welling up that aren’t even relevant to my life anymore; I’m not even sure what they mean at the moment. Maybe all will become clear in time, but for now I am caught in limbo between the past and the future. Is that just called the present? I am held in suspension between being hung up and being over it, between childhood and adulthood, between being solitary and being engaged. Whether or not I revisit old wounds deliberately they inform my future decisions, determining which paths I take and how I pack my bags for the journey. Can a broken heart be more easily transported than a whole one? Can a bruised ego survive the bumps of travelling life’s winding road? Can an inquisitive mind and a boundless soul be harnessed and contained in a carry-on? The world is so vast, how can I possibly live it all? Will my past constrict me to a narrow state of mind, especially if my experiences thus far have labeled me “open-minded”? I don’t want fear or self doubt or passiveness to convince me I am content and to keep me from living. I am not afraid of dying, I am afraid of not having lived. Everyone says I have so much time, but death creeps in when you’re not looking and time moves much faster than anyone ever expects. The present is gone in an instant and a new one rushes in to replace it. Each second is an opportunity to pull myself up by my roots and relocate, but something is keeping me grounded. Perhaps greener pastures only appear greener from far away? If I stay here much longer that pasture may disappear, whether it is green, brown, or purple. I’d take purple grass over stagnant central air any day. The heat’s clicked back off now, but I’m not shivering anymore.