A Moving Day Brings Finality

It was a cool August morning as improbable as that sounds and when I awoke it had already been raining for hours. The pit-pat of drops falling through the leaves outside my balcony was like a refreshing of the mind. The grey skies and rain stood in stark relief against the normal summer heat.

Today was a day I had always been expecting, but not because of the weather; it was moving day. I was taking the last of my things out of an apartment that had been my home for three years.

This apartment that I was now leaving, I had moved into with my second wife. We moved from across the country for no other reason than because we could. It was a choice I always wanted to make but couldn’t on my own; together though we made it happen. That’s what our life together felt like for me, possibilities. It was an exciting time and that place for me was the launch pad for our new life together and a new me.

Our marriage was ill advised if for no other reason than the speed and frivolity with which we approached it. The marriage was itself a financial decision that made sense at the time and that we figured was just ticking off a box that would be achieved down the line anyway.

For me, our relationship was perfect. Not really perfect mind you, we had our ups and downs like most other relationships, but I truly wanted to be nowhere else. I had never experienced such emotional devotion to someone else as I did her and it was a beautiful thing. Our relationship was improbable but it was ours and I loved it.

I don’t know if all goods things must come to an end but I know that one day it did. With that moment my fairy tale was over. It had been a wonderful ride and an experience that has shaped my life in many positive ways.

I had been living here without her for two years. Still, looking out the windows for the last time this was truly the end. There was something about leaving the place that we were supposed to be happy in that gave the relationship a finality I didn’t know was missing.

As my roommate was moving stuff out I wanted to voice all of this to him but I couldn’t even form the sentence on my lips without wanting to cry. So I just left it there in my head.

As I walked around the apartment I said my final goodbyes to those memories. My life would never be the same as when I lived here. Somehow, there’s a beauty to that as well.

 

 

P.S. This article is not on this blog chronologically. It had been collecting dust for at least two years. I wrote the article on the day of my move standing in my apartment and for some reason I never published it. Now I have.

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