Monday, August 9, 2010

One week

Oh, friends, I have about seven posts all going on in my head right now, but last week was a little crazy between things picking up at work and canceled engagement photographs and getting caught in the world's most insane rain, and, oh yeah, we're moving next Sunday.

D. doesn't really like reminiscing,* but this week I'm overwhelmed with these feelings about the time we've spent in this apartment and the big changes it's brought about in my life. When I moved into this apartment, I had been living 3,000 miles away for a whole year. D. and I had only seen each other four total times in that year, and the strain and stress of enormous distances was incredibly challenging. Moving in together, for me, was a bit of a risk and also a relief - finally, we'd made it, and, when we moved in, D. triumphantly deleted Skype from his computer.

When I moved into this apartment, I was finishing the dissertation-from-hell. I was unemployed. I spent many afternoons on our inherited apartment couch crying over both. In those two years, I've found a job, finished said dissertation, worked a lot, hosted parties, made new friends, missed old friends, got engaged.

If you know me, you know I'm pretty much obsessed with places. I had lived in 11 homes before I moved to college. My parents recollect events in their 33-year marriage by recalling the home they lived in at the time. For four years, I moved internationally every year. For me, this apartment represented settling down, settling in. It's been nice.

We only have one more week in this apartment, and, honestly, it doesn't even really look like our apartment anymore, with all the books and paintings packed and boxes strewn everywhere. I'm so excited about our new place - somewhere that feels even more grown-up with our little office, eat-in kitchen, and brand new furniture - but I'm going to miss things about where we live now. The totally wonky walls and floorboards, the clutter of books and furniture, the times we spent eating great food and drinking cheap wine, hanging out with the community of friends I've managed to become a part of.

*Probably a good thing, as it prevents me from becoming just one great big gooey emotional feeling.

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