The tears are coming

I am nearing my 25th birthday. 25 has always been a year of importance to me - some have 30, others reach 27, 48 or 60 and think back on their lives and consider their futures. Mine is 25. This is probably because I truly do cherish and hold the value of youth high, the weight of age and forgetfulness, slowing down and losing touch frightens me so I suppose by beginning to look back and plan forward should begin earlier for me than others. Turning 25 next week terrifies me. I feel as if I no longer have any excuse to live a life of a child without anything significant being done or experienced. I can only serve food and go to school in this Midwest town for so long before I self-destruct. I do not want to be numb. I want to be enthused by everything and everyone that I meet and encounter. I want to write about my experiences and I want to have experiences to write about. I love my family dearly and will miss them terribly, but I just know there are other families out there waiting for me...other groups that have arms wide open waiting for my arrival. And yes, I am terrified. I do not want to go anywhere alone and I feel like there is a greater part of me that wants to remain here, play it safe, and grow old in the veritable midsection of the country. And perhaps I can. Would it be financially possible to own a home here and afford to travel the world? I don't have any answers right now. Apologies for the rambling but I find myself in a place of rambling, scraping for answers and direction and the discipline it takes to be productive and happy. The tears are coming...farewell for now.