One Year.

A year ago today, I'd spent my first whole day in Los Angeles, California after throwing caution to the wind. I'd packed up my entire life into my little civic (RIP, Lucy). Floor to roof—save for my blind spots—every inch of space of that car was filled. I drove from Florida to California, making one stop in Texas for a recharge before continuing on. I woke up this morning (last year) to quite literally the most stunning sunrise I'd ever seen in my life.

That photo in my Photos section? The one where I'm "holding" the sun? That picture is from that morning. It's on my Instagram titled, The future is in your hands. Or something like that. My memory sucks.

But, flash-forward to September, to making another cross-country trip home. Flash-forward to today, to family circumstances, and I'm back in Florida. I have every intention of moving back. Every intention of moving back to what quickly became my true home—once I take care of matters here. Dreams can wait. They'll always be there. But, loved ones? There's no guarantee that they will be.

Family comes first. Always. And mine needs me right now.