five steps ahead

In a week and a half I'm going to board a plane and zoom across a vast and expansive portion of the United States before I touch down again in Montana.

 

I'm going back to Montana for the second time in three months. My fourth time visiting.

 

Why?

 

Because I made it through the initial application phase and onto the interview phase of my graduate school admissions crusade.  

 

Which means at this point, my dreams are still alive. Which is nice.

 

I wasn't going to say anything here because I didn't want to jinx what I see as good luck and I don't want to have to report back if I come this far and get turned down.

 

But I need to say something, because with a prospective possibility as large as moving to Montana looming large on the horizon, it's almost impossible to think about anything else.

 

As it stands, I only sent in two grad school applications. I still have two more on the back-burner, awaiting submission. (They're not due until May 15th, which seems ridiculously late, but whatever.) Both of the schools I applied to have granted me interviews, which, quite frankly, was more than I was expecting. The first one is via skype, on Monday.

 

It's hard to put into words in any sort of productive way how frustrating, difficult, stagnant, and stuck the past two years have made me feel, although I've bitched and complained and tried to make sense of it often here. Now that there is once again that flicker of possibility and change and growth, I'm ready to shout it from the rooftops.

 

Except it's not time yet, and now that I've grown up a little there are so many things to consider all of the sudden.

 

Before, when choosing a college or a summer job, or a new place to live, I just went for it. I'd take it. No problem, no questions, no matter the distance.

 

But now, my sister is having a baby, I'm going to be an aunt for the first time. My brother is playing college football here. My grandma is suffering from Parkinson's and is within driving distance. My boyfriend's family lives here. Hell, my boyfriend lives here.

 

But that doesn't change that I don't want to be here.

 

It doesn't change the fact that I still feel pulled to wild places, to mountains. To the next great adventure into the unknown, something just outside my reach. I wouldn't be myself if I didn't hold those yearnings at the core of my being.

 

Maybe it's a little early to be thinking this way, I haven't even interviewed yet, after all. Maybe only time will tell and in the end it won't even be my choice to make. 

 

But I've never been able to stop my mind from jumping five steps ahead.