What makes you go and what makes you stay?

I laid in bed one morning, back in January, and watched the sun's rays creep up the sides of the mesas...leaving a path of glowing embers in its trail. I missed the smell of the wood stove, which would have cut the dry, crisp New Mexican morning. I laid in bed for a few moments, grateful for the incredible awakening (a New Mexico morning greeting...always intense) and recalling the emotional skype conversation I had the night before with my close Kenyan male friend...I jumped out of bed, opened the glass french doors and was hit by the smell of strong coffee, quiet jam band music and rays of sunshine. My good friend A already had a cup of coffee for me, green chili ommlets on the stove, and the cribage board set up on the table (this routine along with about 8 other friends in my living room was part of the "normal" weekend morning routine for a good four years while I lived in New Mexico). As I picked up my coffee mug, I announced to A that I had to go to Kenya for the summer...this of course propelled him to tell me exactly why he also had to "get out of America"..! I let him go off for several minutes, as I enjoyed the first sips of my coffee, giggling quietly into my cup. When he paused, I jumped in (like I always do) and shared with him the conversation I had the night before with the guy I truely thought I was going to marry in the near future. I remember telling A, "Something has to happen A! Either we move forward, or he and I are done. I can't keep doing this {long distance}. It is too hard. So I have to be in Kenya this summer to find out where we are going." This was the first day I announced that I would be in Kenya. For two months, I said this outloud when I woke up and again before I went to bed until the day I found out that I actually was going to Kenya because an organization wanted me to conduct research for them on nomadic/pastoralist education.