And I’m Not Even Crying

And I’m Not Even Crying

Almost done here in Austin! It’s late Wednesday night as I type this. Dad has already arrived and he will help me pack up and move back to Montgomery on Friday. Adieus have been bid to everyone at work and tomorrow night I will see my non-work amigos for the last time.

The Moves

Glendora-Potsdam
Didn’t start packing until the night before I left. Texted my ex frantically, wondering if we’d ever see each other again. Cried as I hugged my parents and dogs and sister goodbye.

Potsdam-Montgomery
Half-assedly packed half my things, leaving the rest with my roommates. Cried myself to sleep, knowing my boyfriend and I would be no more when I left in the morning. Cried the whole morning. Before I even got out of town I remembered I had left something behind, but couldn’t stand to turn around and face another goodbye with him. Left the item in my college apartment.

Montgomery-Austin
Bawled like a baby when I hugged Rebekah goodbye. Cried for everyone else, too. Frantically packed the bulk of my items the morning I left. Stopped by Cafe Louisa for one final latte on the way out.

Tonight I hauled my giant green duffel down the steps and shoved it into Mrs. Potts’s trunk. Just before I hoisted the bag up to put it in it’s temporary resting place, I spotted the airport tag still attached to the handle. It informed me that this piece of luggage had once travelled from LAX to Syracuse on January 20, 2011. The day I moved from Glendora to Potsdam.

Moving has always been a ridiculous adventure. Each time has been so different than all of the rest. I have distinct memories of my last few hours in Glendora, Potsdam, and Montgomery. I’m now in my last few hours in Austin. But, for the first time, I’m moving back to somewhere I’ve already lived. Actually, I hadn’t even visited Potsdam, Montgomery, or Austin before I moved to any of those places. I just went.

This time, I know what I’m getting myself into. It’s an entirely different type of feeling.

I’ve loved what I’ve had going for me out here. A great job, a great apartment, great friends…lots of great stuff. But I’ve always loved Montgomery. I’ve always known I’d keep coming back, if not at least for extended visits.

Another strange thing about this adventure is that it will be the most temporary adventure yet. I have only a matter of months to do the things I need to do and kiss the people I need to kiss and marry the people I need to marry (Rebekah, I’m looking at you) before I head off to my Mali adventure. Boy, it makes me want to take a nap just thinking of it all.

The oddest part about this move is how able and willing I am to let things go. Perhaps it just hasn’t hit me yet. There are far fewer tears this time than when I left Glendora, Potsdam, or Montgomery. I’m able to say goodbye to people and places and even a whole trash bag of clothes. I don’t know why. Maybe I’m a bit more mature, or maybe I have a much higher sense of security this time since I’m going to a familiar place. But, for some reason, I feel a bit more sane than I usually do around moving time.

Perhaps a part of it is also knowing that it will be a few years before there’s a chance of getting to see these people or places again, and so I ought to suck it up and let them go. When I look at a worn out t-shirt I still like, which was bought in high school, and which hasn’t been worn for a few years… I can toss it in the Goodwill bag because I know I won’t wear it between now and June, and it’s unreasonable for me to take it with me to Mali, and then it’ll just continue to sit in a bag for another two years patiently waiting for me to come back from Mali so I can continue picking other outfits that don’t involve the shirt in question. Oddly, knowing I’m moving out of the country so soon has had an emotionally empowering effect on my general well-being.

I’m just doing really well right now, is all I’m trying to say.

-Liz


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