Welcome back to the story of my life. Since my last post, I have packed my entire Orlando apartment into boxes, packed those boxes and my furniture into a cargo van, said goodbye to everyone I love in Orlando, eaten a last breakfast at my favorite Oviedo breakfast place (The Townhouse), and driven all those belongings as well as my parents home to Plantation. Over the past week, I’ve unpacked all those boxes from Orlando, sorted every possession I’ve ever owned into three categories (1. Take to New Jersey, 2. Keep but don’t take to New Jersey, 3. Throw away/Goodwill), broken two sewing machines, gotten a backache every day helping my mom set up her classroom for the first day of preschool, furnished an apartment via IKEA, bought and shipped a huge, ugly desk to South Orange, tried to keep in touch with my boyfriend who’s in Haiti for the week, and attempted not to lose my mind. I have been mostly successful, but yesterday and last night, something came over me, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I’m at home, the home I grew up in, with my family and I’m a little miserable. I can’t figure out why.
Maybe because leaving Orlando meant leaving behind all that I know and love. Maybe because sorting through all my silly possessions from the last 20-odd years of my life made me realize that I’m not a child anymore; maybe because, after hearing my boyfriend’s stories about the orphans he’s been working with in Haiti, I feel bad for being upset about anything in this comfortable life I lead. Maybe because I’m actually terrified of this major change. Right now it’s easy to pretend that it’s all going to be great. I can say that I’m studying at Seton Hall without having to move to New Jersey. I can say that I’m a Master’s student without having to put forth the effort and do the work. I can make everything I want to happen happen in my head, but I’m starting to wonder (okay, falling back into wondering) if I can make it happen for real.
Yesterday I found out my apartment number for my new place in New Jersey. 15K. That’s me. Top floor, one bedroom. I’m excited and ecstatic. I’ve been waiting to find this information out forever it seems, but I also realize how lonely it could be. 15K. Top floor. One bedroom.
The day before that, I went to school with my mom and helped write out the kids’ names for cubby markers and door decorations. I love going to school with my mom and playing with the kids in her class. I always have, but I realized as I looked over the list of names that I’ll probably never met this group of kids or the next. I’ll be living across the country.
The day before that, I spent with my best friend. We didn’t do much, just sat, talked, and went out for lunch, but we don’t ever have to do much. It was a fabulous day, but as she walked out the door and we said goodbye, I realized it could be a very long while before we’re able to sit and talk and go out to lunch together, in the same city, in the same state, again.
It could be very lonely, you know. 15K.