Taking Flight

It’s been a month since I wrote “The Last Pages of my College Chapter” and let me tell you: these past few weeks have gone by quickly. So although this isn’t generally the content I’d cover in the last week of the month, I wanted to spend some time talking about what it’s been like to move away from home.

Move-in day was a bit chaotic. It was Wednesday, May the 8th. We got started a bit later, yes, but my sister and I threw some of my many boxes into my car and headed over to get the keys to my apartment. She took a video of it, because what else is family for if not for curating embarrassing footage for later use? Perhaps “embarrassing” is the wrong word. Still, I walked in, keys in hand, and saw this empty apartment and realized just how much work there was to do.

We returned home and then employed the help of my dad to move the big stuff. I’ve moved several times in the past, and as I’m not particularly strong, move-in days can be a bit stressful. Getting a bed from one house, onto the truck, across the highway, and into a smallish apartment in one piece is less 2+2=4 and more 2^2=4. (Yes, I know, math, but if Bitterblue can use math to combat fear, then I should be allowed to use it to prove a point.) Anyway, along with the big stuff in my dad’s truck, we managed to cram pretty much 87% of my remaining belongings into my sister’s and my car.

This whole trip, not terribly stressful, nor was it terribly hard. But with my things unpacked, however much I wanted my sister and dad to stay, there really wasn’t much reason for it. It’s weird, because every time I see them now, I have no idea what kind of goodbye to give them. I don’t always know when I’m going to see them next. It seems like I ought to give a more long-term farewell, except I realize shortly after that we already plan to meet up again on X day for Y occasion. (At the very least, to watch Game of Thrones, which… you already know how I feel about if you read my May TV Reflections post).

Anyway, it was a stupid concern of mine at the moment, because I knew I was going back to the house later that night to pick up my cat and to have one last dinner with my family. Cue me, a couple of hours later, dinner eaten, Lucky in his carrier and incredibly unhappy. (His whole domain had been torn apart and carted off, things were changing, and now he was in the dreaded carrier.) He was scared, and suddenly I was scared, because it hit me that this was a legit thing that was happening, that I was on my own. AJR has recently released a new album, and one of the songs, “Don’t Throw Out My Legos” especially hit home. The stakes had been raised. It was time to see what I was made of, and I was scared I wasn’t up to snuff.

I would love to say how it’s not as scary as it seems, that change is always scary, and that, if you follow along with the metaphor of the baby bird leaving the nest, you’ve got it in you to fly. However, that’s going to sound incredibly cheesy and cliche, and it’s not going to be until after you’ve had a chance to settle in that you’re going to realize that it’s true, so we’ll just leave the cliche at that.

It hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows, of course. There are still cloudy days; I’m not sure if you can ever really get rid of those. But part of committing to adulthood is being willing to weather the storms. I want to hold onto that feeling of pride of having something that was completely and unequivocally mine. My apartment, my belongings, my life. Yes, I have to share it with someone, but I don’t mind. Those good feelings can be the stars by which I navigate the dark and cloudy nights.

Which is where I’ll stop… for now.

I suppose I should add, at the very least, that my cat has quickly gotten used to this whole new apartment thing. He’s got an Instagram if you want to follow him at @lucky_the_indoor_panther.


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