It’s the end of an era, in this tiny back bedroom of apartment 123.
Slowly, we take down the photo’s, decorations, the small trinkets and Polaroids that make this apartment ours, and this room mine. Once the fan stops turning, and the lights go out one final time, it won’t belong to me anymore. I’ll turn in the keys, and get that deposit back.
But right now, one last moment in here, it’s still everything. It’s still my escape.
I’ve made memories in this little room. I fell in love in this room. I’ve made love in this room. I’ve lost and found myself again within these four walls. If they could speak, how much they’d say- what stories they’d have to tell to the next person who unpacks their life.
So many sleepless nights, anxiety attacks, laughter, binge watched TV shows with my best friend, the outfit changes, the growth. It all belongs in here. It all happened here. And eventually it will all be left here.
The girl who lived here for two years will be washed away, steam cleaned, spackled, repainted and polished. In the midst of every morning, she became. She became strong, confident, bold and whole. These walls were a foundation, a place to land unsteady feet. A place to experience life, and herself.
So the splotch on the carpet by the window- spilled coffee from a restless morning.
All the places where the paint has lifted from the walls- pictures of her favorite faces and places used to hang there.
She loved this room. This corner of the world. She wrote stories in these walls. She read stories within these walls. How they took her on adventures. How every day in this home, was an adventure.
And oh how she loved, and oh how she learned.
I look around this room one final time.
Watching ghosts of her, me.
I’ll miss this feeling. I’ll remember this feeling. I’ll pack away this feeling.
This is how it feels, to live.¶