Moving is a weird thing. It's been a long time since I moved into the house I'm now leaving behind in favor of an apartment with my fiancée. He took a promotion at the Walmart in Wilkes Barre, PA, about an hour away. We found a great little place and we're mostly moved in.
It's odd to have to pack up years of accumulated memories, sifting through what I can take and what I'm leaving, separating the person I used to be from the person I am now and cutting ties with things that no longer hold meaning. Photographs of people I haven't spoken to in years, ex boyfriends, and friends that probably don't even like me anymore don't have a place in my life, and it's kind of hard to let all of that go.
Will is already living at the apartment and doing his new job. I, meanwhile, am stuck in a half demolished room miles away. It's lonely and depressing, and the empty shelves aren't making it any better.
I can't wait to get my transfer through so I can get fully moved in. The two nights apart have seemed like weeks. The drain on my bank account has been enormous, and the drain on my energy from constant driving and packing and unpacking is even worse. I'm ready for everything to be done already so I can get on with my life.
