So it happened over the weekend. The event I had been fearing, dreading, and awaiting with an anxiousness the likes I had never experienced happened. I moved.
The "fun" started on Friday with a ton of pre-packing. As this was going on I wanted anything, and I do mean anything, to be able to just jump forward in time when everything was moved to my new place. Change is bad, but witnessing change is even worse in my opinion.
So the pre-packing concluded and I had one last night in the place. I stayed up rather late to enjoy the walls one more time. That, and to try and win one more race on iRacing.
Saturday came and this was it. Boxes were full, my electronics had to be unhooked, and with each passing minute the inevitable change was nearing. I sat on a couch in a fog like state. Each passing minute felt as if a clamp around my chest was getting tighter and tighter. I knew the change was coming but why couldn't it just happen? This hurry up and wait for the change was not doing me an favors.
My stress level was peaking so I loaded up my car and took a load of stuff over. The movers were about 30 minutes from being at my place but my dad stayed behind to take care of that. I don't think I could have handled that process of the move whatsoever.
Leaving the place hurt. I had been there 16 months and as I drove up the hill that led out of the neighborhood I thought back to the original time I came to this place. No, not the time I moved in, but I had stayed there several times to dog sit for the owner. During those dog sitting days I always wondered what it would be like to say that a place was my own. Granted, I had lived there for 16 months but it wasn't my own.
Also while I left the neighborhood I became rather sad as the routine of life was about to change. From the people I never talked to but always saw walking, to the 7-11 I always stopped at in the morning, everything I knew was about to change.
I got to my place and started unloading the stuff I had in my car. Once again I just wanted to be able to snap my fingers and have everything in place. I hustled to try and make this place home, but all the important stuff was on the moving truck and once again I got to play the game of hurry up and wait.
My dad arrived ahead of the moving truck and I began to have the same panic as before in regards to seeing the change. It was different this time because I didn't want to see the stuff taken out of the old place but now I didn't want to see the stuff entering the new place. Why was this? I'm not sure. Maybe because it was a visible, concrete example of change and if I didn't see it then maybe the change itself isn't as real? I intentionally put a "?" at that sentence because if I were to speak it aloud it would have sounded like a question because I'm not sure if that is the answer or not.
Since the cable company changed their ways I had to go out and get my own wireless router (don't get me started on them) so I decided to do that instead of waiting for the movers. Sadly, the person at the store was overly great at showing me exactly where the item I wanted was as I would have rather wandered around for a good three hours.
With router in hand I went back to my place and saw the movers unloading the truck. I was instantly flooded with fear. Did everything get moved? Did everything survive the move? Would I be able to make the rooms I inhabit the same as before? These questions swirled around with a vicious fury that left me in a trance like state. If you could have seen me from the outside it may have looked as if I were tired, maybe a bit depressed, and uncaring. There was so much more than could meet the eye though as I was a ball of worry and had no way to show or express just how scared I was.
Eventually I entered the restroom upstairs and I shut the door. I didn't want to see what was going on. I could still hear the footsteps and orders being shouted, but I wanted no part in this moving game. I wanted it all to be over.
A couple hours later it was over. The movers left and I began to hook up the internet, television, and computer. The chair I race in was reassembled, my games got put back into the order that I had them, my clothes were put in the order that they should be in, and slowly this place that I have only referred to as a "place" was being transformed.
Yes, this place slowly began to take shape and have a life. When I saw the place for the first time just over a month ago it was nothing more than walls with that hid the hollowness within. As my furniture got set and I got everything to my liking it became more than that. I'm not sure at exactly what moment Saturday night it happened, but this place Saturday night got transformed and it's no longer a place, but it's my home.