To Finally Be

I came "home" last Wednesday. I still cannot believe I am here. A few nights ago I borrowed a can opener. I'm surrounded by boxes of things I no longer fit, like or want. I walked twenty minutes to the grocery store. I took the bus clear across town out of boredom. This has all happened too fast. I have changed. It isn't about the city and the skyline and the lost friends. I personally have changed. I've barely spent any time with myself in this apartment. It was supposed to be a household of two. I may have took this space by myself but I keep inviting others in. 

My potential roommate didn't like it. I figured his complaints were only a few and the place was the only thing I knew of. So I contacted the owner and made my own arrangements sight unseen. I was moving in within the week. I had to do a number of things to rush it. I shipped myself clothes, food. I turned on utilities for a place I'd never stood inside of. I also took the train down at the 11th hour knowing I could lose my deposit if I were late or didn't show. I don't know if it was the nerves or the motion but I threw up three times on the train. I wasn't in an aisle seat so I tormented my seat mate. Even with shipping things I wound up with four bags when I should have had two. I was bogged leaving. I couldn't even sleep for the combination of worry and excitement. I had a hotel room just in case and I barely slept five hours with two beds. 

I am moving slowly. I also have comfort in purging things. I'm no longer sentimental. Frankly, I am no longer attached. I sat a chair out on the curb I've been lugging since I was sixteen. I "accidentally" broke a plate I had deemed ugly but only kept because my mother gave it to me. I have a growing pile of random things I don't even understand how I got in the first place. I can't even go into the amounts of expired food and medicine that was on the verge well before I put them in storage. I also cannot believe how many shoes I have. I recall getting rid of about twenty pairs of shoes and I still feel overwhelmed by whats remaining. I find myself opening something and telling myself "this is nice" when I chose it and have owned it. 

The freedom is the most overwhelming. What do I do with myself? Should I read a book? Should I watch all 3000 HD channels I have? Should I take this new commuter train all the way to Sanford? I'm honestly bored. I'm typically up early, still waking to my mothers pills alarms. Once up I'm not hungry so I find myself analyzing light switches or washing things in the dishwasher because the water is included. I find myself noticing pointedness of spoons. I have a hundred bottles of thickened nail polish. I bought headbands a few days ago just to discover two unused packs of them. I'm scared to check my printer ink head for it may be fused to the insides of my printer. I threw away an entire box of things from my childhood including weird magazine clippings and clothes. 

I've narrowed down the things I cannot live without to one tote in the corner of my closet. I cannot find my trash can. I hate all of these sheets. I had bought Christmas cards in 2012 with "Seasons Greeting" in many languages. So it felt good to sit down and make out these cards to the people I love. I had just enough forever stamps. I messed up my address at least seven times so I'm down quite a few envelopes. I've done laundry twice. I walked to Panera and ogled at all the lines for brunch around here. I've missed a lot. I see now this place isn't so bad. It may even be too much. But it feels good to finally be.

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