on moving
i fucking hate moving. its not even the packing, even though i moved in with two large boxes plus two suitcases, and moved out with 25 boxes plus 3 suitcases plus furniture. its not even the exorbitant cost of hiring movers. its the abrupt nature that i can’t really prepare for. it doesn’t wait for me to catch up. gone are the days of spontaneous mamouns runs. gone are the days of doing a delicate dance in the kitchen while my roommate and i attempt to make different meals at the same time. gone are the days of citi-biking together. i even overlapped my move in to the new apt with the move out to the old apt by a few weeks. to help ease myself in i said.
i must sound like i said goodbye to everything and relocated halfway across the country. i moved 6 miles. ok i do admit that jersey to queens is essentially worlds apart to most new yorkers, but im not suddenly losing my entire day to day world even if my roommate moves home. i still have those that are important to me a subway away. i still frequent at the same grocery chains (even if they are in different locations now). i still do the same events i would have if i had not moved.
i threw a housewarming a week after move in. the superficial reason i projected outwards was that it forced me to settle in quicker. instead of pondering whether or not this couch worked, or this lamp needed to be in that corner, i had to make decisions essentially the first night in. in actuality i knew this was a facade. i needed to surround myself with people. its how i felt when i first moved to jersey. i preoccupied myself so much that i didn’t have time to have negative thoughts.
maybe its that today it finally set in. that im truly living by myself. today i helped my roommate cleanup the old apt in preparation for his own move. the new apt still doesn’t feel like home. i still lay in bed contemplating if i made the right choice to even move. the nightly subway constantly reminds me of the consequences of my action. im closer to friends for sure. one is so close, that when he was over, he was still connected to his own apt’s wifi. the old apt still feels like home. i walked in and instantly felt at ease. something comforting. even with now barren walls and empty bathroom, it felt right. one last package pickup. one last TJ’s run. one last hello to my doorman. one last walk in the park. one last thank you to my roommate.
after saying our last goodbyes, during my whole commute back to the new apt, it felt as if i was hyper aware of my surroundings as to capture those fleeting moments. the color of my last jersey bus ticket. the cafeteria tiling of the bus terminal. the mosaics that litter the train stop. the water pan collecting yesterdays flood water. it was all so beautiful. i must have been a sight to many: watery eyes looking at everything for the last time, carrying a plastic container filled with cleaning supplies, a blanket too big for my backpack drapes over my shoulders.
change is finicky. i was excited for the new move. my own place. decorated how i wanted to (i even got rid of my living room tv, in favor of music, talking, board games, etc.). don’t get me wrong i still am elated for the new opportunities. i know that jersey was right for me during the past two years. but it still pains me to formally close that door forever. nostalgia now washes over me.
be good,
simple