Make Your Move

So many things go into moves -- packing, organizing, remembering, goodbyes, excitement, dread, nerves the list could go on and on. But I realized that probably the hardest part of moves for me is watching one's apartment become slowly and increasingly diminished, piece by piece. When I left my Hilgard apt in Berkeley three years ago I felt literally sick to my stomach that whole last week of June as all my furniture (except my bed) was gone. Being inside my apt that last week was painful- both emotionally and physically- because this place that I had loved so much was now both empty, and worse still, held all the tell tale signs of moving like open suitcases and belongings strewn across the floor.
The sick feeling wasn't as strong with my apt in Austin - really just a faint echo of the Berkeley feeling - but it was there nonetheless. The Austin diminishment was more gradual because in Berkeley the majority of the furniture left in one day. In Austin though, it was slower with the dresser and armchair one day, the table the next, and so on and so forth until I was again just left with a bed, open suitcases and my belongings decorating the floor. Though it may have happened more gradually, it was actually harder because with each piece of furniture that left, my apt began to feel less and less like my own. The walls, windows, carpets and shelves were all the same but the things on the inside - the most important things - weren't there anymore. It was like watching all the tangible things of my life in Austin disappear. And though I was (and am) left with the intangible things, somehow watching the tangible things make their way out the door and on to their new lives left me with that slightly sick feeling.
In a way it really shouldn't have though, because the day after the last piece of furniture - my bed- left and began its new life, I did too. And that, I suppose, is the flipside of every move - you may be leaving somewhere but you're also starting somewhere too.