The train to somewhere

It was raining. Again. She looked at her pale skin in the mirror. The way her hair just hung limp. She put on some makeup and tried to add some color to her cheeks to make her not look so pale and boring. She smiled at herself in the mirror. She read that in 30 seconds a fake smile turns into a real smile. It worked. But fuck, does she have to smile at herself in the mirror to make herself smile? She couldn't take it anymore. The gray, mundane day-to-day bullshit. Wake up, stand under the hot water till it ran cold, get dressed, go to work, make coffee, come home, veg on the sofa and she'd seen everything on Netflix there was to see, wash, rinse, repeat. It was getting really old. On the way out the door, she thought twice and went back in to throw a couple things into her purse. Well, it was a big one more like a damned tote bag, she grabbed her makeup and threw it in. Walked into her bedroom and opened up the drawer that held her only worn once bikini, smiled for real, and threw it into her purse as well. She left the apartment, locked the door, and walked away. With the train station within clear view, she walked straight to the terminal and bought a ticket. She felt like she may throw up. All she had was her purse, about $2000 saved up in her account, her journal, and a huge fluttery feeling in her gut. She'd never traveled much, hardly leaving her hometown. If she was, to be honest with herself, it's because she's always been scared. Scared of change. Scared of life. But a dreamer nonetheless.

Things began to change for Amy about two weeks prior. She was sleep-walking through life working at a coffee shop kinda like Starbucks but not like Starbucks in the fact that Starbucks was busy. Big Ass Coffee, meh, not so busy. Since no one was in the place Amy was writing an entry in her journal. It was about another silly beach dream that she was too scared to ever try when a man walked in. It was funny because before she saw him, she smelled him and it's hard to smell anything other than coffee in that place. I mean even her apartment smelled like coffee. The very distinct smell of Zest soap filled her nostrils. It brought her back to her childhood and the flash of memory arose. She looked up expecting to see her father. He'd left when she was about 7. Popping up now and again to shower her with gifts born of guilt. She hadn't seen him for several years now. She'd heard he had remarried and started a new life. One that never seemed to want to contain her within it. She'd pushed him to the back of her mind like so many times before while his scent made him linger in her mind longer than she wanted him to. It seemed she was always alone and it was starting to get to her. She started thinking about how cool it would be to just leave. In her reverie the man asked her if she could go anywhere, where would it be? Strange, she thought, that exactly what I was thinking about! How could this stranger that smelled like her father know what she was thinking? All she could do was to answer- Florida. I hear there are beaches made of pure white sand and the water is emerald green and you can see through it to the fish and dolphins and sea turtles! Well, said the man, I think you better go, it sounds like paradise! And can I have a Chai latte with coconut milk?

She locked up the store and went home with a fluttery feeling in her belly. What in the world was she so nervous about she thought? She knew she'd never do something so crazy as to move somewhere not knowing a soul. As boring as her life was, she did know most people around this gray town. She'd been there her whole life. And her mom worked at the diner so she really knew everyone. Gossip central. On the walk home, she spotted a bumper sticker that read "beach or bust" in a turquoise color. It stood out contrastingly on the bright yellow car.

The following week while in the grocery store line she was scanning the rag magazines that lined the checkout. "Lose weight fast!" with a big ol' piece cake on the cover, some awkward-looking supermodel on the cover of Vogue, and a travel magazine bright and glossy with a white sand beach and emerald green water that read "Come to Florida, this beach awaits you!" She added the magazine to her other purchases and took it to work. At work, as she filled a complicated order of mocha frappe lattes and decaf double expressos the customer noticed her magazine and said man if I didn't have all these responsibilities, I'd move there in a heartbeat! Look at that water! With that, she felt the now familiar flutter in her belly. Was she capable? Was she brave enough? What did she have to lose? She could always come back...

Two weeks later without taking anything she owned other than what was inside her purse she got on that train that took her to a bus that took her to a beach that she dreamed up in her head. And with that one decision, she colored in her world.

She followed her gut and everything changed. So many times in life we are scared to change, to grow and we hold ourselves back from living to our potential because it's scary to take a step in the direction of our dreams. When in reality, once we take that step, life evolves and grows there and if we keep moving forward so does our life. We become better for it. Otherwise, we get stagnant, and guess what grows in a stagnant pond? Gross shit, that's what grows in a stagnant pond. That flutter in your belly means you're doing something. Something that scares you. Something that can change you. Fear is a liar. So move! Get to stepping! Live life, don't sleepwalk through it. Seems like a waste to me.