so i’m leaving this place.

my apartment, i mean.  a little less than two weeks, and i live somewhere else.

i find it amazing and fascinating and slightly disturbing, the tendency we have to attach to places.  places which probably won’t be in our life for very long, places which go on without us.  how we tie the concept of home to some specific set of walls.

i’m busy packing and unpacking and assembling ikea furniture (jesus h, am i sore), and through it all, none of it is really sinking in.  i’m not going to live here anymore.  this bed won’t be mine anymore.  i will not ever cook on that stove again.  this place will no longer be a part of my world, at all.  and it’s been such an integral one for the past year and change.

i am unfond of the adjustment period required for a new home.  of how long it takes to feel like yours, to feel comfortable.  we slept in our new place last night, and it wasn’t a peaceful sleep (it also had no sheets or pillows.  i keeps it classy).  i walk around and it feels like i’m in a really nice hotel that i decorated myself.  i know it’ll be that way for a while, i’m prepared for that strangeness.

there’s also the knowledge that there is no place that is solely mine anymore.  there is no retreat, there is nowhere to go when i demand alone-ness.  that will be an adjustment – i’ve come to value my solitary time to an immense degree.  my happiest times are with the bouncer, for sure, but there are many nights i turn my key in my door and a wave of relief and gratitude wash over me, knowing that i can be silent and alone and just go about my business for the rest of the night.  this is changing.  my world is changing.

again.

so here goes.