Peace, if only for 30 seconds

Bright spot

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

It was a blazing hot day and a rainy-ass night.

I hauled ass packing my place today — my mom saw all the shit packed in the late afternoon and was impressed with my progress, but what she didn’t realize was that I had done all of that in the morning and was working in the afternoon.

I keep trying not to take life too seriously, but today wasn’t a good day on that front.

I hauled one carload of crap to the new apartment, and all I did was look in the mirror, searching for Maddie. During the last move, she roamed the car and climbed in and out of boxes.

God, I miss that puss.

I was feeling guilty because she had tried so hard to sit in the front seat with me, and I kept preventing her from getting past the armrest. I had all my papers and shit that I didn’t want her to mess up.

Now, that all seems so trivial. I wish I had the memory of her sitting in the front seat next to me. But the memories of her nuzzling my elbows with her head are plenty to keep me both happy and sad, all at the same time.

“She’s been here too few years
To feel this old.”

— Matchbox 20, “Hang”

I often stop and wonder with this epic move whether I done lost my mind. I mean, paying for two apartments? Am I high?

But the cost of my sanity and freedom really knows no price tag. It’s just money. Really. This is the first thing I’ve ever done for me. If I don’t have a bright spot in my world, I’m never going to make it.

The move is Saturday, which was why it was imperative to get everything packed today. I’m lucky I’m a pro at this moving thing. I still have a lot of loose ends to tie up, glass to wrap, surfaces to scrub.

I don’t think all of my furniture is going to fit in our tiny elevators. And I don’t know that I am really that interested in having the movers drag it up seven floors of steps. I have so precious little that it would suck to lose the one or two “good” pieces I have.

But maybe it’s just another mark of starting over — get rid of all the memories and maybe I’ll be compelled to make some new ones.

My heart is so heavy tonight. But I keep trying to thank God for everything I have, and everywhere I’m going. This is just a tough phase. In another six weeks, a whole lot of pressure will be alleviated, financial and otherwise.

But seeing the sun set on the Intracoastal tonight? Reminded me of why I’m here on this earth or, at least, it made my heart leap a little bit at just the beauty I’ll be able to behold every single day when I’m in my new place.

I keep thinking in terms of “the year I lived in the penthouse,” like I’m planning my autobiography. But I don’t just want it to be a year — I want it to be for a decade. I want mom to get a job already so she can pay for her own place. I want to not think in terms of how hard it’s going to be but how pleasant it will be instead.

And fun. It’s got to be fun. Sure, it’s in the middle of fucking nowhere, but that’s OK. That’s what I need right now. My space. My peace. The sound of my own voice in my head not being drowned out by absolutely everything else.

I can’t wait to hear what I have to say.

Comments closed.