Home is where you are

Like the buildings in this photo, the feeling of moving can be a daunting task. Suspended out of reach, so large, unmovable, intimidating. I grabbed the last of my stuff today, bought a lot of groceries to fend for myself on my days off, and packed up my car. My mom was talking about what she would do to ‘my’ room… which is no longer mine. My stomach has been in a bit of knots and I’ve tried to remember everything, but to no avail.

I forgot about my healthy humus, crackers, bananas that I left at the folks place. I am officially ‘moved in’ with the man. Prepared to pay rent, fend for myself when it comes to food, and start to settle into the role of cohabitation and making this feel like home. But, I know that home is where the man is. He watched me as I rummaged through my stuff, ran back and forth, went in a room, went out, and went back in it with a dazed face. He laughed at me as I scuttled back and forth sometimes ending up in just standing there with a, “what do I do now?” look on my face. Trying to get as much as I can put away, but having too much to tackle in one night. Even though I will try.

He had me lay next to him and slow down for a second. The man hugged me close and said to me, “Welcome home.”

My rollie poly suitcase that I’ve been living out of can be retired. Instead of going back to my folks for some time, his for the weekend, back to my folks for Sunday through Thursday and repeating it over and over, I can start to grow some roots. This is a little different from my up-rooting tendencies so I’m sure this will take some time to get used to. It feels strange. Not bad, just that I don’t think it’s hitting me the transition yet since it’s the first night.

My closet is amazing.It’s like a thing of beauty! With all of my tons of clothes, and everything finally hung up I still have space for more. There are shoe racks, cabinets to put stuff in, and it’s definitely holding up to my stuff being stuffed into it. It looks like a bomb exploded with everything be here and there, out in the open, yet not quite put away. And it’s not even like I have an excuse, I’ve been slowing moving in and putting thing away for around a month or so. But, with the final voyage of moving there are crates stacked up and a mess looking at me.

The man has been telling everyone at his work all week that he is getting a roomie. Which is hilarious, and asking me if I’ve been telling people at my work. We couldn’t be more opposite when it comes to that. He will tell anyone and everything about what’s going on in his life, and people at my work don’t even find out that I’m engaged until 5-6 months afterwards. I tend to be an extremely private person, where no one knows what’s going on with me, and he doesn’t mind sharing stuff with his co-workers or whoever it may be. He’s definitely very trustworthy and I’m… not.

It’ll be strange to have my mom so far away. I know I complain about her, and we go at each other sometimes, but in the end I’ve gotten used to having her so close and it’s gonna be an adjustment.

 

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