Sometimes the best decision isn't right or wrong, it just is. This is hard for me to believe, no matter how often I have been saying it recently. It is just a decision. There, I've said it again. And yet, I still can't quite shake the feeling that maybe we are making the wrong choice. To go back to Nevada, that is. Just like when I was pushing hard to stay here in Florida, I felt that that was also the wrong decision. No matter what I do, I'm choosing poorly.
The other night, after I told my boss that we would be leaving, I had a meltdown. An uncontrollably-sobbing on my husband's shoulder type of meltdown. I usually cry silent tears, unless something dreadful has happened and then they may be a little more vocal, but, I.do.not.sob. Ever. In the last ten years it has probably happened two other times. Not only because I think I look funny, but also because I like to keep the majority of my emotions well contained.
Since the thought of leaving is nearly devastating, and the thought of staying is overwhelmingly stressful, I just have to keep telling myself that it is not about right or wrong--good or evil--it is just a decision.