You don't know what you've got until it's {almost} gone

I will be leaving home in T-minus 7 weeks to relocate to California, and have been getting ridiculously sentimental as the reality of the trip has hit, and hit hard.

Don't get me wrong, on a scale of 1-10, my excitement levels are sitting somewhere around 20 at the moment, but on the flip side of the coin, I get a lump in my throat at the thought of everything and everyone that I wont be able to pack in my suitcase and take with me to this new land full of new adventures.

Leaving and cleaving is not for sissies. When you come from a home like mine, full of life, and lots of laughter thanks to two parents who will always be kids at heart, the idea of ever wanting leaving is just silly. I have always had a close relationship with my family {immediate and extended}, and family and home has always been a place of safety, of love and a peaceful haven, living alongside the best people I have ever known. I heard a quote once that said "what I love most about my home is the people I share it with," and this pretty much spells what home has been for me as I have grown from baby to child to teenager. My parents and my family have shaped the person that I am, and now they will watch me pack up and take the lessons I've learnt into this future that stands in front of me.

As much as I adore living at home, I have never felt so ready to jump out the nest and learn to fly on my own. Growing up is both a frightful and wonderful thing, and I have my incredible family to thank for standing behind me, teaching me all I know, and allowing me to follow my heart down the road leading to fulfilled dreams.

Sometimes the line that defines the difference between friends and family is so thin, that you can't tell where your friends end and where your family begins. I will be bidding farewell to the most incredible, hilarious, fun and flippin' fantastic group of friends that feel more like an extension of my family than a separate entity. These people, and this city in which I was born and bred, have taught me a thing or two about the definition of the word 'fun,' and in these past few months have rolled out the red carpet of unforgettable times that I'll most likely refer to as "the good old days" when I'm old and grey. So I'd just like to thank Durban and friends for making 'goodbye' that much harder, by being so darn amazing.

At this current moment, I am savoring what's left of Durban life as if it were the last bite of a favourite meal, and am soaking up the last of the good times like a sponge. I have a new found appreciation for my mom's home cooked meals, and not having to do my own laundry, because I soon won't have such luxuries.
Oh, the joys of growing older.