feel like i am 12 again.

it’s the night before the big trip.
the big trip you have heard about for years.
the one that comes around once a year.
the one that is anticipated for the entire year.

and it’s the night before my first time to conference.
i find myself feeling like i did before my first youth trip.
the trip i had heard about for years,
the trip i anticipated going on for years,
the trip where i knew a few people but unsure who i would actually hang out with/who my roommate would be/et cetera,
the trip where i wasn’t sure exactly what would happen,
the trip where i couldn’t decide what to pack…what outfits to wear, which would be most appropriate, which would be most me,
the trip where i just wasn’t sure what to expect,
the trip where i felt all kinds of anxiety in the days leading up to it,
the trip where at the last minute i really wasn’t sure i wanted to even go,
the trip where i knew it would be fun [despite my unsettled feelings].
fast forward 23 years and this is how i feel tonight.

i am sure it will be fun,
i am sure i will not even to be able to imagine having been unsure of wanting to go,
i am sure it will all be worth it,
i am sure i will not be able to understand why i was so anxious, unsure, insecure.

i am sure.

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