Safe

Chapter 1

Graduate school. A prestigious indication of going into mad debt for a better future.

Look, it's not that I don't want to further my education; hell, I love learning. It's the unspoken fact that there is a ridiculous amount of money that has to be spent on education for a better future.

However, lucky me - I got accepted into my dream grad program less than three weeks before class starts. Most programs don't make these types of acceptions, but for some reason, I got in. I'm not complaining; in fact, I'm BEYOND excited. But having less than three weeks to transition from one state to another will be pure hell.

Though, I can't help but think ... change is good... right?

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Let's start at the beginning. It is a lifelong dream of mine to pursue a masters in Art Therapy. Yes, this is a real thing; look it up. It's not what you think it is. It is a REAL profession that shapes the modern-day therapist. It is what drives and motivates me to help people by doing what I love! Art itself makes the world a more creative place to live, and I want to LIVE.

Getting accepted into my dream school is just the beginning of my career. To be frank, I would have accepted any school that gave me an offer. Though, I personally hoped to go to the west coast. Portland gave me that opportunity. Its downfall, though; two time zones away, a $400 round trip, and a 33-hour drive from my hometown in Texas.

I have never been away from home. Out of the 24 years of my sorry life, I have always stayed where I was, comfortable. I have a great life here! I have a great job, I have amazing friends, and I have a wonderful boyfriend.

So, why the fuck did I decide to accept the furthest school possible?!

Pondering my destructive decisions, I force myself to build my cardboard boxes as my mom calls. My mom has not lived a day without me. She's my core, and I, hers. Of everyone in my family, I know my mom has mixed feelings. My future awaits... just, it's away from her. I can only imagine the turmoil that is boiling within her as the day continues to draw near.

Picking up, I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for her to nag once again, "Con, did you buy everything you needed?" worry clear in her voice.

"Yes, mom, I think I have enough boxes. I don't want to pack too much," I respond, letting out a breath, grateful she hasn't started giving me an ear full.

Even over the phone, I can hear her aura of stress and worry, "Okay, let me know if you need anything else."

I adore my mom, but because she's Vietnamese, the worrisome nature spikes up 300%. Being the oldest daughter, she has always relied on me to take care of my two younger siblings. When I got my acceptance letter in the mail, my mom and dad immediately asked if I wanted them to come along. Not to live with me, but to move me in. The automatic reaction didn't catch me off guard. In fact, if they didn't ask, I would be a bit worried. Though I didn't care, I knew they both wanted to come with me regardless of asking. It's in their love language.

During all of the acceptance commotion, my advisors warned me about school orientation coming up in a week. Because I was accepted into the program late, deferring the acceptance was something they advised against. That meaning, I, in fact, have to pick everything up and go. Lucky for me, orientation day was on the same weekend I was going to Los Angeles for a family trip -- cousins only. I got these plane tickets way back in June, obviously not knowing that I would get accepted this early. I've rerouted my flights to PDX a few days early and my return flight to Texas from PDX so I could finish packing. A stressful weekend, to say the least.

Tossing the last box aside, I take a long look at all the things I've set inside. Art supplies, my portfolio, clothes, mugs, more art supplies, and much much more art supplies.

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Two hours have finally passed, and most of my crates are packed with art supplies, school supplies, and small things I assume I will need. Now, it's time to move on to packing for my LA/PDX trip... If there were an award for the biggest idiot, I would probably win. Most sane, level headed person would think to just forget a random vacation like this. Not me. I don't care how stressed I am. I'd be damn if I lose out on this trip to LA.

Soon enough, my bags are packed, and I can now fall on my bed to rest. Everything I'm taking with me to Portland has been nicely stored in my car; this way, the tow truck can bring it up by the time I return from orientation. I also took the liberty to sneak in some household items that I found around the house. I mean, since my parents already have an abundant amount of paper towels, toilet paper, and tide pods, why should I have to buy extra, right? I'm allowed to go shopping in my parent's home. 

The plan is clear. Fly to LA and enjoy my time with family, celebrating my milestone. From there, I'll fly to Portland for orientation, sign for my apartment, be a tourist, and return home to Texas to send my car off and maybe pack up more essential items.

I can do this. I can totally do this.