PUBLISHED: 11-17-08

Your average banter

Should I stay or should I go?

Whoever said a rolling stone gathers no moss was wrong. I say a rolling stone carries too much baggage.

I’ve always wanted to travel the world and take in everything I possibly could without a care in the world. But as my college career comes to a close, I find myself in a rut: stay in Chicago, or pack my bags-once again?

Four years ago, I moved to Chicago to start a new life. I was a naive 18-year-old girl who never had a boyfriend-let alone kissed a guy-and I was all of a sudden thrust into a world that was so different than the one I was used to.

The only belongings I brought with me on my four-hour plane ride halfway across the country were the clothes on my back and those in my 50-pound roll-along bag, or so I thought.

The lessons I learned in my sheltered life growing up as a devout Christian didn’t really have much weight once I incurred all the vices of Chicago.

Now, I laugh at the fact that I was saving myself for marriage. I can barely remember how I resisted alcohol and am baffled by my previous inability to use curse words.

All of which have got me into a whirlwind of trouble at one point or another, and I am still seeing their lasting effects.

The first boyfriend I ever had was when I was 19. I learned a lot from that relationship and am more cautious because of it. When we broke up, I had to pack all those memories away. I packed away love, hurt and emotions I didn’t know I had in me. I packed away feelings that I don’t think I can get back or give to anyone else, at least not anytime soon.

I play these games where I try to carry the world on my shoulders, and when I feel like I can’t figure things out right away-like I’ve completely failed-I start running.

I ran away from California and my parents when I came to Chicago. After a tough break-up and the loss of one of my best friends when he moved to Portland almost two years ago, I ran back to California where working two jobs and attending community college then made me run back to Chicago months later.

No matter what I do, I can’t escape. But that’s probably because we hold onto more than we think we do.

I realize that life will only pass me by if I keep running, doubting and packing things away. My excitement turns into impatience, which leaves me feeling like I’m continually waiting at which point I start running-again.

So, in my decision of whether to stay or go, maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe the only thing that matters is learning and exploring aspects about yourself from all the things you’ve gathered-unpacking life lessons.

It’s not about running away; it’s about coming to terms with who you are and being comfortable knowing that everything happens for a reason-no matter where you go or if you decide to stay.

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