Packing up my stuff makes me feel equal parts of 1) there’s so much of me gone and 2) yet there’s so much of me left
Ya feel? I mean, I’ve packed so much of my stuff to bring to the UK but it is also physically impossible to pack every single item in the room, including built-in wardobes etc. Therefore leaves the remnants of my life in my (ex????) room while I move on to another country.
It’s gonna be so weird when I’m back in December and I see my room 100% intact. Like abandoned houses, my house would have been “abandoned” for 3 months, and would continuing being abandoned on 3-6 month intervals, depending on when I’m back. Just because I don’t live in it or use things in it anymore doesn’t mean it ceases to exist. My piles of shit are gonna be right where I choose to leave them, as is my chair, my stacks of “organised-mess” under the table, my messy noticeboard with 39382020 notices I don’t actually read. Hahahah ain’t it weird.
Sidetrack: I’m feeling sadder than usual but I don’t know if it’s cos of everything/one I’m leaving behind or the familiarity or maybe just the fear of venturing into a new country. 😦 but as they say, a smooth sea never made a skillful sailor, and life begins at the end of your comfort zone. (v. wise people obviously)