Am I an annual?

Every other spring I am exited and anticipating the summer. This year, there is a hesitancy in my being. I both love and hate how entwined I am with the seasons. Fall: I am in love with the colors, the long lingering summer days, and the last warm rays I soak up with my bare skin. Winter: I hibernate, sleep way too much, cook lots of warm stews, and hide out under blankets trying to warm my fingers with tea and bourbon. Spring: Normally I can't wait to be outside all day, my fingers stained with dirt before I realize dinner time has come and gone and it's still really too cold to be acting as though it's summer. Summer is my prime: happy all day, face turned upward and smiling straight into the sun; big heavy sighs of the flower's purfumes; berries, berries, berries! It can be exausting being so connected to Mother Nature. But this year...

I dont' know what this hestiancy is quite yet. I feel restless and antsy. I feel my body and soul calling me away from here. Is it May? I feel this endless lingering feeling, and it's not just the season.

If you wake up and I am gone: I've gone south for the sake of my blood.

but, but, BUT:

Could I actually leave? My roots, although delicate and not withstanding the harsh winter are firm and tender. Soul: please give me an answer or SHUT THE HELL UP!!!