Thursday, 8 September 2011

Farewell dear apartment

I hadn't cried this much (or at all for that matter) about moving out of a house since I left home - and I left home to move to North Queensland! - until last night that is. I had to have a really big cry, as though I'm having to say farewell to a dear friend.

This apartment I've been living in, well, frankly it's seen me through everything. Tears, laughter, love, anger, paralysing anxiety, hopelessness, fear, relief, hopefulness, excitement and pure joy...a huge and important chunk of my life has happened while I've been living there. It housed my path of self discovery. And it's been there, steady and unmoving, without complaint the entire time: patient, comforting, safe, warm and so friendly.

Despite everything - the smallness of it (it is pretty tiny), the black soot on the balcony from the road out front, the coal heater that only has 2 settings (scalding...and cold) and the fact that the coal is not in the heater but in fact in the cupboard, the stupid lifts (that bing when the lift leaves instead of when it arrives), and even the funny euro-laundry doors that wouldn't let me open my wash machine soap holder more than half a centimetre - some of the happiest times of my life were spent living there.

It is time for me to move on. It is time for me to buy and arrange furniture, wash dishes again, have people over for dinner, spread out a bit, and be at ground level, with a little garden. I want room for my creativity to blossom.

But apartment 2.8 (aka 208, we're still not sure which is the right reference to use), you've been just wonderful and I've loved every minute.

Thank you. And farewell.

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