No matter where it is…there is a place you consider home. For the past six years, it has been my one bedroom apartment in FiDi. It is all me. The clutter. The books crowded into double rows on each shelf of the bookcase. It’s like you can walk in and sense me everywhere. Knick knacks and mementos of my life sit in the hutch of my secretary desk and along cabinets. It’s mine–through and through.
But soon, it won’t be. My parents colonial on 2 acres will be home come October. It’s a big shift. I haven’t lived in a house since I was 17. And that’s…um…a while ago. 😛
I haven’t gardened since I was a teenager (yes a very weird teenager who liked to garden). I can feel things shifting inside me, feel the ground under my feet rumbling. My world is changing again. Monumentally. I’ve had job changes in the city, but not a major overhaul like this. Suddenly, it starts to feel so real. As if only when a deadline is imposed does anything assume importance. Soon, I won’t be able to order sushi whenever I damn well please. Or get amazing Chinese at 10PM. But there are pros. Of course there are. Otherwise, I’d be a complete idiot.
I need a break. This city is beautiful and ugly, intense and isolating, full of possibilities and lost dreams. It’s such a paradox. I spent roughly 8 years of my life here. Shit that’s 1/4 of my life here. I don’t want it to be the only place I spend my adult life. I want to see the world. I want to believe in things and people. I want to see more of the good and less of the evil. Not sure if that is even possible, but I’d like to try.
Soon coming home with be a small town called Wolcott, CT. A place I spent the first 17 years of my life. I think it will be good to see more of my parents. I want to reconnect with old, dear friends. I want to try something new. I am going to take a leap of faith and put all my trust in myself. Hopefully this home will be as good as the last one. 🙂