Moving
- Chrism
- Jul 7, 2019
- 3 min read
It's been Christmas in our house for the last 8 months. We've been working in Houston, living out of 5 different airbnbs, but kept returning to our Austin apartment where holiday cheer and a slightly smoky smell from our fireplace mingled with our perpetual pine candle. There was no absolute need to keep our place this long, but it was really hard to let go.
This week, we finally packed our things and moved out. It took all week to just sort through our stuff and pack. We got rid of about 60% of our belongings, including furniture and clothes. It felt good to purge stuff, but the whole time I kept thinking "man this is the last time we'll be doing xyz here" etc.
We hired movers (Jackson of all Trades) who super efficiently whisked away all our boxes and furniture, loaded them onto a big moving truck, and quickly dispersed our belongings between Goodwill and where we're storing the rest of our stuff. We'd highly recommend them.
Now that we are back in Houston and have a few moments to breathe, we can't help but allow ourselves to feel sad. We really loved our old Austin apartment for some reason. I don't think either of us have been this sad about leaving any other abode (just for the abode's sake). I keep walking through how the old apartment was, in my mind's eye, then tell myself it's no longer there. It's the same feeling I get when I walk through my grandparents' old house in dreams or while awake. It's still so clearly there, every detail, like I can just touch it. My brain still holds a 1% belief it may still exist, exactly how it used to be.
When I ponder why I loved this apartment so much, I wonder about several things. It was the first apartment Brandon and I lived in together, where we started our joint life. It was the place of comfort (especially that super forgiving and wide couch from my colleague) that we could retreat to, that was there for me all through residency. We loved our fireplace and cozy nights burning a log and watching movies. Brandon loved his sunlight filled desk nook, where he had his electronics set up and knew exactly where everything was. I loved the balcony and our lawn furniture, with surprisingly comfy cushions on those chairs.
It was where we had two amazing New Year's parties, filled with laughter and fun. It was the location of several small and fun dinner parties, set up on a folding table for lack of other places to put people and food (but nobody seemed to care). It was the place of a few fights, but many more amazing times. It was the location of Brandon and I's late 20s and early 30s.
We'd have to move eventually, since it's only a 1 bedroom and we were already running out of room. Moving out in order to pursue our dream of traveling just meant leaving about a year earlier or so. At the end of the day, I'm still sad about leaving, but grateful for all the wonderful memories we made there, and for the wonderful people we've hung out with. I'm super grateful for the wonderful man who I get to keep, who's right by my side as I write, and with whom I'll keep on making new homes throughout our lives. But I'm letting myself feel sad too, because sometimes letting go is just a sad event and that's ok.
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