Moving On

You have moved. Not far – to the next town over – but right now, you probably aren’t feeling so good. In the first few days after the moving dust has settled, and all belongings have safely made it to your new place, it’s quite easy to miss what you used to call “home.” Boxes are stacked everywhere, you can’t find the microwave, and the people downstairs have turned off your water all day for their bathroom renovations. Yes, then it becomes almost effortless to miss that one room where you slept, graded papers, ate in front of the computer, and occasionally had your boyfriend over for a cramped night of watching Hulu.

Because things are broken. Cranks on the windows are broken so the new place is always cold and damp. Outlets are broken so your room is always in half-darkness. The bannister is broken so there’s always a chance you’ll plunge headlong into the front entryway at 2am when you make your way down the stairs to go to the bathroom, where you have to fumble for the switch to the floor lamp because the light in the bathroom is also broken.

You don’t even have wireless internet yet.

At this point, it’s easy to lament the house on Parker Street, where you paid your rent by yourself for the first time, where you learned to cook for one, where you got ready for first steps into a new life that would bring heartbreak and those ridiculous squeals that exit your lips when you’re really, really excited about something. And you’re allowed to lament it – for now.

But eventually, you have to move on. You have to unpack the boxes, ask about the microwave, be patient about the water. Live without the internet (cringe). Because look at this place! Right now you’re typing this on your good old desk, right where you’re used to typing things, but it’s located in a study, a full floor below your bed. You have fabulous roommates who are loving and supportive. You’re a few steps away from a pub, a pizza place, a coffee shop, a used book store, a gourmet wine and beer shop, and closer than ever to that boyfriend who used to come over for cramped Hulu night. (Did I mention the study that’s not also your bedroom?)

For now, read a little. Write a little. Unpack one thing at a time. Color. Listen to music. Listen to your froomies sing show tunes. Eat toast. Because you’ll be home again before you know it.