The Gap Year

This is me.  Sitting on my couch.  Sitting on my couch in the living room of the apartment that I share with the boy that I like a whole lot.  

This is me sitting on our couch that we share after a long day.  His long day packed with classes and jobs and responsibilities on campus.  My long day spent working the full time job that I snagged in a small college town filled with hardly any part time jobs.  The full time job that I started working two days after I graduated.  The full time job that I really do not enjoy going to everyday.  Yeah, that one. 

I believe the "gap year" for me thus far has been an experience in quiet chaos.  Change comes with the territory of growing up, obviously, but all of this is not what I had anticipated.  Change has been a frequent visitor, lightly tapping at my door at strange and inconvenient hours.  It's not one of those "Oh, hello familiar knock on the door!" that is answered with a sense of comfort and expectancy.  "Maybe I have mail!" 

No, it's a weird knock that makes you question if answering the door is better than standing still until the knocker gives up and goes away.  Pro tip: Make sure not to even breathe too loudly -- as if they/it could hear you through the wood and metal.  Also, the floors squeak.  Instant giveaway.  "Maybe it's a pushy Bible salesman..." Wamp, wamp. 

I took the gap year to give myself space to figure things out.  One thing I have figured out so far is that waiting for an answer is hard.  I believe I'm arriving at that answer step by step (knock by knock, if you will), but it's hard.  It is hard to examine yourself and really analyze what you want out of life, even if it is only for "right now."  I'm still not even absolutely sure what the question is. 

There is a gap.  I just don't know what to fill it with yet. 

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