I spent a week and a half living in an apartment that was not mine. It was not furnished or equipped with anything that was mine, save for a few essential items. The whole time, I felt dirty, alone, depressed, and unsure if I could continue to live that existence for another three months.

Fast forward to now and I have spent the past week, sitting in an empty apartment, with minimal furnishings, and its ours. I feel clean. However, I feel like the apartment, empty. I can manage to keep myself busy for only so long. Then I have to face reality again, that my surroundings offer nothing for me right now, but space, a view of the trees and the sounds of the birds. This is how I have spent each day for the past week.

You would think that I would be missing my family, my friends, an area I know so well. I don’t. I miss my stuff. Until everything down there is up here, I am going to feel empty.


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