Boxed Up.

This is weird. This is so weird! Just this morning, the place that I called home for five years was boxed up and moved to a new apartment. Unfamiliar. Very new. Intimidating as hell! I don’t know why it’s weirder this time because for as long as I’ve lived, we’ve had to move every five years or so, whether it was to a new city or to a new house. I still can’t figure out whether we’re jinxed to never be able to spend more than five years at a time in one place! If this sounds exaggerated, it’s probably because I’m functioning on less than 6 hours of sleep and I’ve constantly been on the go since this morning. I didn’t even think I could write today, but everything else can take a break for a little while because I couldn’t stand not writing, even if it is just for a day.

I’m sitting on the floor as I type this, grimy as hell, tired, surrounded by boxes in various stages of unpacking and I’m a hair’s width away from bursting into tears because this is a very big change that hit us way too suddenly, in spite of having around a month’s head-start. I guess this is the sort of thing that you can’t really prepare yourself for. It just happens and you just have to roll with it. It’s never easy. It wasn’t easy the first five times I moved and it still never is. It’s not the starting over that scares me. It’s the fact that I can never really hold on to the memories that I form at each of these places. It feels, to be honest, unreal to me.

I don’t know! Maybe this is because I still haven’t let myself actually think about the fact that this is now going to be my home, that this is the place I’m going to have to come back to. It feels very disconnected at this moment. Maybe it’s because it has only been a few hours. Maybe I just need to give it some time. But what I do know is that when I wake up tomorrow morning, this is going to hit me a lot harder than it is hitting me right now.

Guess we’ll just have to wait and watch.

Featured Image by Eric Pouzet on Unsplash.