I have no idea why I’m not freaking out about leaving this place I’ve called home for 7 years. As crazy as it sounds, that’s longer than I’ve ever lived anywhere else in all my four decades. I expected to be my usual maudlin, not a fan of change, waterworks Pisces self. Steeped in nostalgia with a few teaspoons of suicidal depression mixed in to sweeten the deal. Instead I feel nothing. Which is actually refreshing as fuck.
I’m just really ready for whatever comes next. It feels more profound than just moving 15 minutes away. It’s also away from everything that’s been in my sphere for the last 2,555 days. The fact that I can still fit my entire life into my Honda, like I did the first time I drove from MD to FL in 2000, makes me perversely proud.
Vale is goodbye in Latin. The end of an era comences.