I’ve been crying all morning. I didn’t expect to be this emotional about moving out. No boxes have been sealed and no bags have been zipped. Moving very slowly it’s been hard to even just fold up a shirt or wrap up a mug. Memories, good and bad, keep falling out of closets & being found tucked in the back of drawers. Friendships, Love, and heartbreak have all been developed and fallen apart within these walls. So many people from all different walks of life have stepped onto these floors. It’s here where I’ve found myself toasting to new opportunities but also drinking away the slamming doors.
There’s something special about your first home and it takes so much more than some furniture and people to make one so. The emotional detachment was not on the to-do list when planning my moving day. Who knew this would be a part of growing up? Finding myself turning the music down and having to take a seat with my head in my hands, I prayed. Praying for the courage to close this chapter and to be ready for my next adventure. Although more bad memories than good, my little studio looking over the city has been the comfort through some of my hardest times. & here I’ve built a strong foundation within myself as strong as this building alone. With that being said, leaving the keys would not be enough of a formal goodbye for the writer in me…
Thank you for being my mini princess penthouse towering over this beautiful city. You are truly an accomplishment and one of my dreams come true. These walls and floors have more depth than ever before as they’ve felt me when I’ve crumbled barefoot and most vulnerable but have also held me up in my highest heels during my brightest of times. Thank you for serving your purpose in my life. I leave behind only hope, good energy, and glitter as I finally close the door.