"There is a time for departure even when there's no certain place to go." - Tennessee Williams
Well, this seems like an odd place to say it, but I don't know if there is a good way to say this.
I'm moving out of my apartment.
Unfortunately it's come to my attention that one of my roommates and I are incompatible, and as such it's not fair for us to keep living the way we have been. So I'm going.
In a way, this is a good thing. Both of us will be happy in the end, and that's what really needs to matter.
But on the other hand, it's still a sad thing for me. I'm leaving the place that I've called a sort of home for the past six weeks. All my things are here and to be honest, I feel invested in this place. The landlady is very nice and I did so much work trying to find this place in the first place.
But I can't keep looking around me and moping. I've made my decision, and now I have to live by it. And so that means that I'm going.
In many ways, it still seems surreal. I've got a place to live and even have potential sub-tenants lined up, but I don't think it'll really sink in until I'm in this big, new, empty place.
And I thought moving to a dorm was hard. Now it's really most of my life that I have to re-pack into boxes and bags and move again. Just when I'm sort of comfortable. Perhaps I'm being too sentimental about a place that has been both a source of shelter and pain for me.
But it's all irrelevant. I'm going. I need to keep saying that. I'm going. No matter how crazy my moods about the whole prospect may be, I'm going. And that's all there is to it. It's a good thing, in the end. And in the end, I will be okay.
This Friday, at 3:30 PM, I will be leaving this place. This is my last blog post from here. Next you hear from me, I will be in a different place.
Song of the Day: Bluebird by Sara Bareilles