Well, yesterday morning I said goodbye to my parents for the fourth time in my life, and for the first time in those four times, I cried. Perhaps it's a sign that I'm finally getting old enough to be in touch with my feelings - or perhaps living with my parents at 25 was a much more eye-opening and affecting experience than living with them until age 17.

Perhaps I finally understand my mother's anguish at her twenty-something children's life decisions and the tears were those of empathy more than sadness.

Anyway, I'm in New Hampshire now until we depart Monday morning. It's vastly different from my other trips up here because Brian's running around trying to get everything packed and ready for the move, so I'm left to my own devices for parts of the day. Everything is still kind of surreal and overwhelming - every time I look at Brian's truck I see my whole life packed in there in boxes and bags, waiting to be transported to the next phase, and it pulls at my heart. I've been waiting for this for seven or eight months, and now that it's here I look at the time that's passed and wonder where it all went.

I am excited to really begin this journey, no doubt, but part of me is filled with apprehension and fear. Moving to New York City four years ago was intimidating, but the cushion of being only an hour from the familiarity and safety of home mollified me somewhat. I feel unhinged, like I don't have a very solid grip on my fate right now. I know that ultimately, I do have control over my life, in a very zen sort of way, but heading out there without a job and with only one person close to me is inciting a kind of bottomless panic in my head.

I wish I had more things figured out - at least enough that I could really propel myself forward without second guessing a lot of small decisions along the way. I try very hard to live without regrets, but at this juncture I look back on the past few years of my life and can't help but wonder how many wrong turns I took to have brought me to this strange stagnance. Yes, I am making a big move and yes, I have just signed a lease on a house with a boy who wants to be with me forever (yikes) - but I still have so much to accomplish before I feel satisfied with my place in life. What did I do in the past four years if not accomplish? Why was it not enough?

Am I doing the right thing? Why did the chips fall as they did - and what will the next year of my life look like? The next five, the next ten? Will I be happy?

Is this what people meant when they said that 25 was a difficult year?