Moving is usually so stressful and full of dumb fights and frustrations. Then looking at all the unpacking thinking, “God it’s not even over yet.”
I can safely say this isn’t anything like that. Everything went so smoothly. My family, as always, made things so much easier with their physical help and their great attitudes. I am forever thankful to them. The cat is running around happy as hell and the boyfriend hasn’t stopped smiling. Besides sleeping for four hours, we’ve been going nonstop for two days and it’s been amazing.
It finally hit me that I was in my first home with the love of my life. And it’s a new town, and it’s going to be new people, but absolutely none of me is afraid of it.
I don’t think I’ve ever been able to say I am confident in my life, my existence, in staying alive, but I’ve been pretty fucking confident as of late.
This will be my seventh apartment since turning eighteen years old.
My seventh time doing this moving thing in four and a half years and I still am packing until 3am the night before and totally unable to sleep.
Nervous and very excited. It’ll also be the first time in any of my apartments that I’ll be sleeping in a real bed. Unless I count the apartment where I slept on a twin mattress on the floor, which I guess I kind of do. And my first real apartment with a significant other! Unless you count my brief time living with my ex. Which I do not.
All this stability lately is making me feel weird!
Haha I know! Especially as it seems like we go to a lot of the same places. I thought at saw you at Rusconi’s one night, but wasn’t sure.
I had a cyst in the inside of my eyelid and it decided to rupture as I was piling on way too much black eye makeup, and it resulted in uncontrollable streaming of pure black tears that would not stop.
It was terrifying.
Then I ate fondue with my boyfriend so today has been an emotional roller coaster.