Personal Narrative: Moving Away

Sometimes, I experience days where I want to move away from everything I am and everything I know. I dream of the day I can start over in a new city, town, or country. I have lived in the same house since I was one years old. Over the course of my life, I have accumulated a large circle of acquaintances from church, work, and school. It never surprises me when I see someone I know in Target. I dwell in a small world, and I want to get out. I want to get out and what else is out there in the world. How many experiences am I missing out on right now because I stay stagnant? How many people have I missed out on knowing because my life only goes as far as the next city over? I do not just desire to explore unfamiliar places; I want to escape
I will still be the same person with the exact same flaws and problems. The roots I leave will remain attached to me, no matter how hard I try rid myself of them. Everything will stay the same; only the location of my residence will differ. This sobering revelation leads me to ponder the importance of a place. Does the place that one lives in make them who they are? Or do people make the place what it is? Maybe, these two options harmonize together, like a lively string duet. Perhaps, this causes a place to contain even more significance because it is people that make a lot of land a country, a city, a neighborhood, a home. If this is true, we should ask ourselves “What kind of person do I want to be?” before we wander off into
For now, I cannot pack up and move away. I must carry this desire with me for a couple more years. While this stagnation can be boring and annoying, I realize that the wait can sometimes be the best part of the journey. In this one mall town, I have developed a unique identity and story that I will carry with me along my future travels. The people I know in this city will always hold a special and nostalgic place in my heart, and I will always remember them throughout my life. I cannot wait to wander, yet I am currently busy building myself a house; so that I can always come