moving house
we start moving tomorrow. or, at least i do – i forgot there’s a a big festival downtown this weekend and my partner is working and friends are attending. you can already hear the music from our driveway.
i never buy tickets and always regret it. one of my all-time favorite nights was spent hopping between free and secret shows, running into out-of-town friends who offered a ride, singing cobra man (r.i.p) while four of us laid shoulder-to-shoulder on the old mattress in the back, streetlights washing over us one after the other.
i was like: oh, this is why i live here.
/
the past few weeks have felt like i’m being spring-loaded. i can do nothing but wind myself tighter. it’s not a snap that i expect, but a sever: to fling myself far, far away from the coagulated mass of experience i’ve had here.
far away is technically only a few blocks, but i’ll take it.
i cannot wait. i can’t wait. i can’t wait. i can’t wait. as soon as i get the keys, i’m bringing over a chair, sitting on the back patio, and closing my eyes for a while.
/
one more year and i would have lived in this house as long as i lived in what i consider my childhood home. an insane thought, and probably why i’ve been such a mess: i’m realizing i never learned how to say goodbye to something that holds so much of me.
/
see you on the flip side.