Sunday, August 30, 2009
Hard to explain
Today is my last day that I can be in my apartment. Tomorrow I relinquish the keys to my landlord, have the electricity turned off and complete the move to the new house.
I have been in my little apartment since May 1994; a long time. Everything that has happened to me that held any gravity at all in my life as it is now happened in the time that I have called this place, such as it is, my home.
I say "such as it is" because it's small and not very posh. I have, for the past 16 years, slept on a Murphy bed, cooked in a small kitchen, dressed in a tiny room and showered in a bathroom that is even more so. So many people have made light of where and how I have lived, but I've always felt at home there. I always felt provided for and safe there, mostly because I have been able to make my own way. Though I have struggled at times, I've always been enough to give myself just enough and be happy.
To say that I am happy to be in our new home with Morgan is to say the very least. It's very comfortable and spacious. The bedroom, when combined with the bathroom and closets, is probably a small kitchen away from still being much nicer and roomier than my former apartment. Yet, leaving a place is still difficult, isn't it? Even if the place that you leave behind is just, well, a little apartment.
It's the picking up and the moving on that leaves behind the bad and the good. And neither are there still when you return for them.