I will soon be shifting my home, and I always knew, that leaving this one would ache a lot!
My father was in a transferable job, so we would shift cities every two years, and hence moving homes has never felt like a major step in life, but something I have been made to be habitual of. But this time, it’s not me moving from a place with my parents, it’s me moving from a place that was the first one I called my own!
I shifted here when I started working, and it’s been almost two years now. 20 salaries, one promotion, one major heartbreak, a few moments of feeling loved again, and thousands of lessons later, I am finally leaving this cozy little place behind.
Living alone here was something I will cherish for the rest of my life, for this is the place that made me believe that no matter who comes into and goes from my life, I am capable of being there for my own self – managing my emotions, thoughts, anxiety and all my sick days!
These walls here, they have heard me grooving to my favourite songs, and they have also heard me cry all night long – clinging to my pillow and telling myself, “Simran, it’ll be alright, you got this!”
Would the walls of the new house feel the same? Would they want to hear my stories for hours and absorb everything they see me go through without uttering even a single word out, making me feel safe and secure of a life I live within them?
I know I can gather things when I begin boxing this place up, but how do I gather the memories? How will I ever run to the same corner of the sofa where I first realised, I have moved on from a major setback in life, and how will I sit in the middle of the same bed where I have spent nights trying to figure out life?
These 658 days here, would be engraved on my heart, forever!
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