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.