After months of work and a series of miracles, I’m in the new place.
Last night I unpacked the last box in my room, and I was finally able to walk through my bedroom without tripping over a load of stuff. The rest of the house is another story, but I do have a moment to reflect and write.
I walk through the new house, and I keep asking myself, how did I end up here? Why am I here? How long am I here for?
The old house had so many memories. A flood of images come when I close my eyes. All that I went through in that house, all the emotions and experiences are right there. But when I open my eyes again, I’m here in a new house, and a new town. I can’t ever go back there now because it literally belongs to someone else, and it would be breaking and entering unlawfully if I did.
As my roommate and I have been trying to set up this new place, we keep wanting to set it up the way we had it before in the old place. On the first day, I put the silverware in a similar spot where the silverware was in the old house. Out of convenience, we decided that it needed to go somewhere else, but I keep returning to that first place. Strangely, it’s taken several weeks for me to stop going to that spot. I had to keep reminding myself that the silverware wasn’t there.
And then it dawned on me that this move was a great opportunity to establish new ways—not only in where we place the spoons and forks, but in where we place the more significant things we want in life. Out of habit, we may go to certain places where we think our dreams are, but we have to remember that what we want is no longer there. It really isn’t, not anymore. We have to find new places. And that’s not a bad thing. It’s just a new beginning.
Hope things are well with you.