Rope: freak.

To say I'm "freaking out" would be both an under-statement, and an over-statement, depending on the moment, depending on the day.

Keeping my man up well past his bed time tonight, I had a little irrational crying fit because, "I don't want to not want to go but I do." Between the sobs, and refusing to turn on my video, you can imagine just how confusing I am. Be thankful you're not dating me, I'm a disaster.

It's always the same. It was in 2009, when I left my home for the first time, and the second time. It was the same last year, when I left for another four months. I go through stages, of excitement, denial, elation, devastation and genuine, fear-filled panic.

WHAT THE HECK AND I DOING runs through my mind at least one hundred thousand times a day. Mix that up with, I'm so lucky, I'm so excited, I can't wait, I can't do this, this is awesome, he is awesome, God is good, I am terrified, how adventurous, I'm going to disappoint him, I'm so in love, I'm going to disappoint everyone, I don't have enough baggage allowance and oh crap; I don't know how to drive, or what a nickel is; then you're pretty much where I'm at, within a 15 minute cycle. Two weeks to go, and I'm exhausted.

Speaking from the past, I know this will last till about the night before. I won't sleep, but on my day of departure I will be fine, composed and ready. And then I will be completely in my element, with boarding pass, journal and camera in hand, thanking God again and again for the two things which flavour my life so beautifully; love and adventure.

Until then though, it's panic. It's panic and throwing myself on the floor of my church, as I did this morning, causing havoc, because, "I'm leaving and I can do whatever I want". Until then, it's packing and re-packing, making plans and cancelling them, tears alone, and fears a plenty. Until then, it's prayer and second guessing, and regretting and feeling very unbelievable, and very, very strange.

It's bitter-sweet goodbyes, and big event planning, and strange, interrupted, butterflies in the belly but trying to act rational routines.

I'm going to open my mouth and say things I regret. And I'm also going to leave, having regretted not saying things.

The only way I know how to do this time well {which I don't}, is to write, to process, to spend time with people, to talk, to be in routine, to take photos and most importantly; to affirm myself of truth, and to pray.

I'm sorry for this post. I'm a writer, it's what I do. It's how I be. It's how I know what I feel, it's how I don't just end up in bed, watching toddlers and tiaras and drinking liquid ice-cream calories {which yes, has happened more then once this week}.

So, friends, please feel free to remind me:

- I serve a good God who leads and goes before me.
- This is what I've always wanted; radical, risky, moving over the other side of the world worthy love.
- He is the best. I am the luckiest.
- I am not in control, but I follow the one who is.
- I really, really love Hershey's kisses and Peanut Butter Cups. America has both.
- I am blessed.
- This is my love adventure.

I feel better already.

The countdown month.