So Ghost and I are, by the looks of things, going to get a new apartment. It’s in the same building, just on a different floor and with more space and (by the looks of things) fewer problems. For a good price that we can afford, no less.
You’d think I’d be more excited.
However. I am, despite my Maaka’s best efforts, still fairly resistant to change.
Then again, maybe that’s why we got an affordable two-bedroom apartment in our current building rather than, say, halfway across town.
So, let me put it another way. I’m grateful that our new place fell into our laps the way it did. I’m grateful that it’s close, that it won’t mean boxing things up so much as just carrying them down a few flights of stairs (or, more accurately, elevatoring them down a few floors). We don’t even need to put on coats to do this move.
Which is amazing.
And the added space is amazing.
The potential for a work-room and a storage-closet and (by that token) a living-room that isn’t over-stuffed with work-room-related and occasional-use things is AMAZING.
And yet that doesn’t mean I won’t miss this place, this set of rooms where I came into my own, where I became an Adult – for real – for probably the first time in my life.
I cried a little bit when I gave my boiling water offering today, told my house what a good house it’s been and said Thank you, Thank you, Thank you! for all its given me and been to me.
We don’t even have the new lease signed yet. There’s still bits of Paperwork to be filled out, a little bit of money to change hands, but it’s pretty close to being a done deal.
I’m happy and excited about what we’re gaining in this move. But the sunris, the container garden, the daylight, the balcony, the moonrise, the airiness, the light… Don’t think I don’t sorrow over what we’re leaving behind.
Thank you my house, who is a good house. Thank you for being my shelter.
Meliad the Birch Maiden.
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