Fly Away Balloon.

(Picture via plasticnico@flickr)

Do you ever feel like a balloon? One of those helium ones that little children often let go and watch curiously as they disappear into the big blue oblivion? I feel like I'm so close to being released, to being free. A little 5 year old is gripping onto my string tightly but he's two centimeters away from letting me fly up into nowhere. I don't know where I'll go and I don't know what I'll do. I'll follow the wind, going along with the breeze and listening to it whisper as it slowly brings me on a journey.

It's a scary feeling. So many of my peers already have their lives planned out. They know their next step, their every move. What college they'll go to, what job and internships they'll apply for. I don't even know what shoes I'll wear tomorrow. And I'm starting to feel the pressure, of the wind and my parents tugging me towards the end of High School and onto something new. But the thing is, I don't want to be let go. I like where I am. I'm in a comfort zone, I'm safe and I'm secure. I haven't even begun to think about the future yet, and even when I attempt to map it out, it's so overwhelming.

I just needed to get that out there. I'm scared. I don't want to fly away. Not yet. And even though I know that it is inevitable, I just keep silently praying that he holds onto my string.