I’ve been getting an itch lately that I can’t scratch. My life feels colorless and stale like week-old bread. I need a trip. I need the wind in my hair and my music blasting out the car window. I need a full tank of gas and enough cash to get me there and back by Monday so my colleagues are non-the-wiser. I need to feel like the oyster shell is over brimming with possibilities for me. That is the itch that I can’t scratch. Being honest is not hard. We argue all the time with others about what we think is honestly wrong with them. What is hard is being honest with yourself. Getting in my car and driving away for the weekend will only stave off the itch for another week. I have this feeling like I’m holding my breath for a really long time. I’m waiting for something to happen, but since it never happens, I keep holding my breath. Am I spending my whole life waiting. But what am I waiting for? What is this feeling I can’t scratch?
I don’t think I am missing anything as a person. I’m happy with who I am and what I do. So what am I waiting for? I can’t wait forever. It’s my turn to jump.