Tuesday, August 2, 2011

I went to Columbia yesterday and checked out of my old apartment.

It was a strange feeling, really.

I hadn't realized how attached that I had grown to that place until it was time to leave.

As I sat on the bed that had been cluttered only an hour before and surveyed the stark emptiness of the room around me, this horrible sadness washed over me, as though it was just occurring to me in that moment everything that I was about to leave behind.

A year's worth of memories.

A year's worth of music and sounds and textures.

A year's worth of love.

A year's worth of pain.

A year's worth of cooking.

A year's worth of regrets.

A year's worth of exhaustion.

A year's worth of evenings spent naked and alone between my sheets, cuddled against a glass of dry red wine.

A year's worth of writings.

A year's worth of experience.

A year's worth of alcohol.

A year's worth of thoughts.

It always felt so good to come back to that place after my long, torturous evenings of work.

It always felt so good, and now I must just leave it all behind and start over again, this time with a more demanding schedule than I have ever faced in the past.

It is exciting, in its own way.

But the sting of the nostalgia is...disquieting, somehow.

1 comment:

  1. I know how you feel. I've moved around a lot in the name of college. I stayed with a family, had two apartments of my own, and two dorm rooms. Two days after I graduated with my Bachelor's I left my dorm for the last time...and as I hit the light switch I looked back to the empty room. The wave of emotion that flooded me was startling.

    It's amazing how much you can be attached to your four walls because of the memories you have made within them.

    Good luck in your new apartment, Hayden.