Wednesday, January 19, 2011

My life; in boxes.

So here I am at 1 am. Tomorrow is my last day in St. John's. I'm about to embark on a great journey and leave alot of people/things (and cats) that I love behind. This is the first place I really considered my home since I graduated high school. This is the first place in six years that I lived in for more than four months. I settled in in this house, it really feels like home. For the first time I felt like I was home.

That being said, I was really sick of moving. I moved eight times in one year before I moved in here. When I was younger I never wanted to settle down. But here I am at the age of twenty four wanting nothing more in my life. I'm sick of saying goodbye, really really sick of it. I'm sick of "getting on my feet" time after time. I'm sick of adjusting. I want a nice home. A nice boy to live in that nice home with. A nice cat to raise and call my own. And a set of friends that I can keep.

It's hard to leave the first place you've considered home. That includes my house, my roommates, the pets, my friends, the city, the pavement under my feet when I walk, the backstep where I smoke all my cigarettes and contemplate, even the fucking ceaseless rain. That includes the bad times and the hate and the backyard barbeques with a thousand beer. It includes the holes in the back step and the slant to the floor. It includes surprise visits from best friends, people (and dogs) crashing on our couches, catching the same shows every week with my roommate. It includes people who forgive me, people who don't judge me, and people who have my back time and time again.

So here I am at 1 am with my life slowly being put into boxes (and actually most of it in bags to throw or give away) and here I am wondering why the fuck I have to go. And who I can convince to come with me when I leave. Because yes. Like I've heard, you make new friends. But the ones I have now mean the world to me and I really don't want to say goodbye to that. I mean who else is going to not only come to my bacon leaving party, but make tons of tasty bacon treats? Who is going to deal with my lewd and brunt attitude? And love me for it.

Alas, the packing must continue. I have alot of faces to say goodbye to tomorrow. Sad.

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