I've heard it a million times, seen it through countless dreams.
They've all told me the same thing. To forget about it all, and move on.
To forget the way you'd hold my hands to cup your face.
The way your hands would always find mine.
The mischievous smiles you'd flash as you bit my lip gently and wouldn't let me go.
Then there are those who remind me that I'm getting older.
That it is time for me to focus on the rest of my life.
So perhaps it is time for me to move on. To move out on my own.
I can empty my investment accounts, and it'll be enough to purchase that loft I've been looking at.
I can accept my current supervisor's offer to extend my contract.
Then I'd be fully independent.
But is this what I want? Would I be happy? What would my parents think if I bought a house without consulting them?
Choices.
