A Needed Distraction
There’s something almost a little therapeutic about packing for a move. You have to take this room, which you’ve filled up with memories of everything about you – the good stuff, the bad stuff, the crap that made you think “What the fuck self?” and pack it all away.
Everything is neatly sorted, separated and categorized, folded and wrapped up, all to be put away into boxes, leaving behind bare walls and empty corners. It’s like taking your life, the mess that it may be, and attempting to make sense of it. It may be a total fail effort, but sometimes the thought really is what counts.
When I pack things away and look back at all that space that I just created, all this emptiness around me, I can almost feel the stress release its hold on me. I feel like every box I fill detaches me further from this place that I’ve never really wanted to be at. And my god… Does it feel good!
Most people feel melancholy when they pack, most people feel depressed when they realize they’re leaving the only place they’ve really called home. That makes sense, most people are leaving behind friends and family whom they love and care for deeply.
However, what do I have here?
Most of the friends I have now are in Portland, and two of the people I care most about are leaving soon after I do. Another has already left me.
So what holds me here? What do I have in this town to make me feel sad about leaving? My family?! They’re half – no, not right – they’re the whole reason I feel like I need out.
No friends. No family. No reason to be sad. I have no ties to hold me down, and so I feel almost elated when I’m packing. I only think to myself how I’m one step closer to the only thing that’s on my mind – freedom!
Never has a sweeter word fell from my lips than that of freedom. Not just the ideal – while it is a pretty thought – but the reality of freedom as well.
I can’t wait to delve into the nitty gritty adult world I’ve so been shielded from; worrying about bills, working that boring nine-to-five job, wondering if we’ll have enough food to last us the week.
That may scare you, but to me it’s something I’ve never gotten to experience. And while I may sound strange to be saying this, but I really cannot wait.
I want the whole she-bang. The pretty teenage thoughts of freedom – no rules, no curfew, whatever I want in the fridge. But I also want the other stuff too. I just want it. More than anything I’ve ever set my sights on. And when you’re so close you can taste it… There’s no better feeling.
So tonight I will go to sleep this (yet again) snowless Christmas Eve, but thoughts of sugar plums will be nowhere near my dreams. Instead, I will let my mind wander the what ifs I avoid, let myself think about all the endless possibilities and adventures Laurie and I might find ourselves on as the days until I am finally in the city I love slowly dissolve into the frost bitten air.
Ah, but before that, more of that glorious time waster known as packing must happen.
The 27th fastly approaches.
Misse
