I'm leaving for London in less than twelve hours, and I'm sitting on our sofa watching my dogs sleep. Its a funny sort of situation I find myself in-- this is what I've always wanted, to move to London (even just for a short time), but all I really feel is dread. I'm going to miss my puppies, and my grandma (even though she's already forgotten who I am), and my father, and my mother, and my coworkers at my part-time summer gig. I'm leaving for London in less than twelve hours, and I can't help but cry on my sofa.
I know this is something I have to do. This past year I made the insane decision to try my luck at getting into drama school and was surprised by a position on LAMDA's wait list. Even though I didn't get in this year, what seems like a far-fetched dream seems a little closer than I thought. But to get the training I need to audition, I need to go to London. I'm taking an eight week Shakespeare course which will be an incredible challenge, one I'm looking forward to with excitement and apprehension. I'm going to see as much theater as I can, study as much as I can, learn as much as I can, and I know I'm going to love it.
So why am I sitting here crying? Maybe its because things aren't working out like I'd always hoped. Shocker, I know. Every step of this journey has more or less exploded under my feet, and the family and friends I leave behind now are much different than they were even just months ago. I'm scared of what could go wrong at home that I'm not there to fix. I'm scared my dog will die without me next to him. I'm scared my grandmother will lose her memory of me forever.
But, let's buck up and eat some chocolate. An adventure awaits, full of Primark and Speeches and Very Low Bank Balances... perhaps some success, too?
See you across the pond,