How to describe the atmosphere of the in-between? It's neither here nor there, it's flighty and unsure, it's hesitant. It doesn't want to grab hold to what's ahead, but finds it hard to let go of what's behind. It's a piece of driftwood that has fallen into the sea, bobbing to and fro with the waves, the nestled destination on the sandy beach nearing, but still far.
This is the space I'm in during my 28th year (soon-to-be 29th...). I feel a constant bobbing of the waves in a gentle sea. At least, it's gentle. There's something to be said for that. There was a storm once, but those dark and ominous clouds seem to have passed, for now. I know the excitable, adventuresome & rocky land I left behind, but the land ahead is hazy. Will its roots go deeper? Will its branches extend further? Will I have to slog through mud to find a grassy plain? And if I reach it, will I rest amongst wildflowers?
Questions that have yet to be answered. For now, I continue to bob, resting in the lull between worlds, hoping to reach shore before another storm passes.