I’ve lived in this apartment for a little less than a month now, and I’d like to think I’ve adjusted just fine. There are still some things I need to get used to, like how the grocery store is two minutes away and how I can literally just walk out the building, get on the train and be in the city within 20 minutes rather than a good hour and how there’s an actual real mall with good stores 8 minutes from the house. Okay, so most of the things I’m baffled by is how close things are. I grew up in the middle of the woods, I’m allowed this for a bit longer.
Some days though, I catch myself in a feeling of loss. It’s hard to pinpoint, perhaps even harder to explain, but it’s almost as if I for a brief moment catch a glimpse of myself and don’t really know who I’m looking at. Early November last year there was no plan for me moving anytime soon, and now here I am in a completely new place in a completely new area. A year ago I hadn’t even met the guy I’m currently living with. After over a decade in the same place, it’s not that strange that I’m having a weird time of it and your routines are never as obvious as when you lose them. Like I said, I’m starting to get into it but there’s still a loss of footing. The cat doesn’t treat me the same, because it’s a new place and a new person with new smells and sure, some nights she cuddles up next to me in an unfamiliar bed but most nights she doesn’t. We’ve lost our routines as well. We’ve lost, in some small way, the bond that came with being just the two of us.
None of this is bad. It’s simply different and although I half-expect to wake up one day in my old apartment, in my old bed, that’s never a comforting thought. I love it here. I don’t want to be anywhere else, but some days I wonder if I’m even here.