Thursday, August 23, 2012

RealitySets In

The weeks have just flown by. Before I knew it, I had very very few days left in Boston and I had bought a one way ticket to New York.   It’s been a lot of fun.  Going away party after going away party.  Dinners, drinks, lunches with friends.  It has all fit together like a little puzzle and I’ve managed to find time with just about everybody!

But as the days dwindle on you start to realize things like… this is my last Thursday in my apartment.  This is my last drive to work.  I have three more breakfasts, where will I go?  You start to make a legitimate bucket list like you will never come back.  I will come back.  A lot.  But it’s weird.  This is the city I have known my entire life, and I’m leaving it.
And I am leaving the people that mean the most to me.  New York isn’t far.  I will be back a lot.  I am an overly emotional person.  I expected to cry a TON leading up to the move, and it just hadn’t happened.  Today was my last day in the office and when I was leaving I really started to get sad.  The first chapter had actually closed.  Talking about leaving is one thing, but this was the first real goodbye.
I left work, had dinner with friends and was really happy.  It was great to catch up and talk about my new adventure.  When I left I called my mom, and she started saying all of the annoying mom things (sorry if you’re reading this mom).  But those buttons that only your mom can push.  And push hard.  I started getting emotional.  Like overly emotional.  I called my sister (who has remained unbelievably level headed through this whole thing) and she pointed out that maybe this is just my mom’s way of coping.  Maybe she is stressed and upset about it and it’s coming out as annoying nagging mom things.  Valid point.  But I can’t navigate anyone else’s stress, I have my own.
As I drove home I realized that one of the hardest things about moving isn’t dealing with your own emotions, it’s dealing with the people around you.  I have constantly been reassuring people I would visit, keep in touch etc.  Talking my best friend off a ledge etc.  I get a lot of “You must be so excited” or “are you sad?” etc.  But no one really wants to know how you are doing.  And I don’t think I have asked myself.  Of course I am excited to go, and even when I think about leaving this city that has been home my whole life, I am not sad.  I am ready.  But after weeks and weeks of dealing with other people’s emotions about my leaving, it is hitting me.  I’ve been absorbing it and absorbing it and there is no room for anyone else’s emotions about my move.  I haven’t had room to feel my own feelings; I’ve been dealing with everyone else’s.
Now I am nervous about my last three days here.  I have to fit in work, packing, a final visit home, a party at a friend’s, selling my car, a going away dinner, a furniture delivery, and more packing.  How?  I have no idea.  It will get done, I am sure of it, but there is no space, no air.  No time to digest my own actual feelings about this move while I go through the motions of all the things I need to do  and people I need to see.  I am afraid that I am going through this in such a blur that I am missing it. 
I’m doing it though.  On my own.  No one is coming to help me unpack and settle in.  And yes, I do wish someone offered and could hold my hand through this.  But maybe it’s better this way.  I have todo it on my own, and I can embrace and own the whole experience.  And then a week off of work, just me and my 37 cardboard boxes settling into my own 700 square feet of this amazing city that I get to make into my home.  And that isn’t so bad.

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