On Moving

People change, seasons change, situations change.. And before you know it, you are moving into a new house, you no longer go back to your old house, your old neighbourhood, the one that you've spent 14 years of your life in. They say change is good, the new house is larger, spacious and amazing and everything else. Only problem is, it doesn't feel like home. Even when I have all my stuff around me, my own bed, and my family, the place just doesn't seem... Home. There are no memories carved on the walls, no stories to be remembered or to be related to where it exactly happened. I have it all in my heart and mind, I just thought I won't have to hold on to them this much before because there was always a solid reminder.. A scratch, a mark..

The moving was difficult at first, I didn't want to start packing, I didn't want to believe that this was it. Later, however, I thought it would be best to deal with it. So with an absent mind, I began packing, loading the boxes and shifting them. It got hard when the furniture started disappearing, when I looked back to the empty rooms and for a second, it looked like nobody ever lived here. I hated to think in that way, so without looking back, I headed to the new house and busied myself with the unpacking dilemma. It took 3 days but I was glad I sorted out my stuff.

On the first night of the moving, I couldn't sleep. I drifted in and out of sleep, thinking that I'd wake up in my room; that this was just temporary.. It wasn't. It still isn't. The house is great, don't get me wrong, even more than just great, it's just that I'd need time to adjust to it, that's all.