We are in a state of chaos here. Tomorrow, after seven months, we are finally moving into our new home. The timing is terrible, but that’s how these things usually go. Last week I was away, and I have to leave again next week for a few days. And today I have a shoot. We scheduled all these things before we found out we’d be moving this week. But I am surprisingly calm, and I keep hearing Natalie’s voice in my head from last week, “Breathing in, I am breathing in. Breathing out, I am breathing out.” We’re taking this one minute, one step, one hour, one breath at a time, and it will all come together and be totally fine.
We are incredibly excited to be moving into the new house, but I’m also feeling a little bit heartbroken about leaving our current place. I’ve talked about it before, but I had a very nomadic childhood, and this current apartment is literally the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere in my life. Four and a half years here. When John and I moved in here, we’d only been together three years, and now we’re coming up on eight this year. We got engaged in this livingroom. I got ready for my wedding with my friends and family in this apartment. We have had so many dinner parties and late nights talking with friends and impromptu dance parties here. This place has been our home, and I’ve never felt that about any place I’ve lived. Ever.
I’m in this state of excited happiness about the move while simultaneously feeling such sorrow about saying goodbye to this place. And I find myself bursting into tears at the most random of times. (It doesn’t help that my emotions are already all over the place from last week.) Sleeping in a new room tomorrow night will be beyond bizarre.
John keeps reminding me of all the new memories we’ll make in the new place. And I know he’s right, but it’s hard to let go just the same.