I’ve been putting off packing even though I’m moving on thursday. It’s an adorable little place, the new one. It has the same ammount of rooms just bigger, has two bathrooms, a nicer kitchen not bigger just more thought out and a finished basement. It’s really adorable really, I even have a garden.
It’s just I moved into the old place when I was seven. Some of the most signifigant moments of my life have happened in this house. I’ve broken hearts, I fell in love, I lost that love, my three best friends moved away while I stayed in this house this boring city. I spiraled down, became a mother and started my spiral back up. It’s surreal actually, it seems like I’ll wake up thursday morning and it will all have been a dream. I will have never moved on and I’ll be the same girl, who lived in this city while everyone else left. I wish my love would be here, maybe then I’d stay but I’m not his love anymore so it’s time I left.
It’s time for me to leave…
