I packed the very first box today. I packed my husband's clothes from our dresser and a few of his things from the closet.
It all has become so much more real all of a sudden. I'm leaving. Not just moving, but moving moving. I am leaving the only place I have ever lived.
Sure, I've lived in different cities in the U.S., but I have never lived in another country, never been more than a 6-hour drive away from all of the people that mean the most to me.
Is it bad that I am still excited?