Bittersweet

All the pictures are off the walls leaving the faint outline of an apartment once lived in. The bookshelves have been emptied and now resemble a toothless grin. The sound of doors and cabinets shutting echo a bit more off the blank walls, adding a shuddering, melancholy soundtrack to the finality of what path my life is about to take.

I look around and my apartment is filled with memories. Memories of Girl's Night with Meggie and Jennifer and a round of Taco Bueno for everyone. Singing Les Miserables and High School Musical with Jenn, enhanced by a bottle of wine of course. Quiet and lazy Sunday mornings spent on the porch with a book and a cup of coffee. Writing this blog while desperately praying for inner peace. The sense of accomplishment when my new couches arrived. Curled up on the couch with my ankle the size of a softball while my coworkers made sure I had food and water within reach. My mother painting the letters "LAUGH" with me, while she was praying that I too, would someday laugh again. Hot summer days, cold winter nights, and throughout the storm season that ravages North Texas in the spring...I've been here for two and a half years.

I feel as if I grew up in this apartment. I learned how to pay bills and how to save up money for big purchases. I took off the training wheels and became an adult here. I stopped spending my money on drinks at the bar, and instead on books that quench my inner thirst. I have opened the blinds and let the sun shine in on my joy and closed up the curtains in an effort to shut out the world.

Although great joy and contentment await me in the new house and new life, it will be bittersweet to say good-bye to this little home I have created.