Moving on
So it’s final then. I’m moving out. I’m winding up my home.
A year’s worth of furniture, appliances, cutlery, knick-knacks, and collectibles will now be relegated to big boxes of memories. Inferences of experiments – of the kitchen, heart, soul and entertainment variety – will only remain in smiles, chuckles, and waves of nostalgia. Irritations and responsibilities will only be sorely missed.
The best thing about the move is that my apartment will be taken over by a very, very close friend. A partner in crime with whom I have shared many happy moments – over movies, meals and liquor. A close friend who has promised to let ME do up the house again, so I can do all the things I planned to but never had a chance to.
What this house has given me is independence, confidence, privacy. What it has done to me cannot be measured in words. And I don’t want to give it up. But I know I have to, which is the worst part. I have to move on, to greener pastures, to bigger responsibilities, and to greater maturity.
I am thoroughly pleased that things have worked out the way they have, mostly because I will get to do all the things I always wanted to but didn’t have the resources for.
Wistful. That’s what I am, mostly.
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So...
... what’s going to happen now? Will I be curtailed? Will my independence be cut? Will my car music system be stolen?
None of the above.
I will return from office EVERY single day, to fresh, hot meals, and warm, welcoming arms. I will dance around 3000 sq ft of space, and grow my own tomatoes and chillies. I will breed garden lizards, and feel grass underfoot as I chase butterflies and pick huge hibiscuses. I will read books on balconies in the evening, and lounge on a hammock on weekends. I will look after people, and be thoroughly pampered.
But my car will still be parked outside, and luckily, the panel of its music system is removable.
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The Bad and the Good
Yesterday, over the course of a conversation with a friend, I was lambasted for being thick and obtuse enough to think that another close friend’s insensitivity probably had something to do with his/her present situation.
This is not the first time it is happening to me, but it is the first time with this friend. My past though, is filled with instances of my feeling let down (or sometimes just plain stupid) for having put myself out over and over again, only to be dropped like a hot potato once I’m done being useful. A couple of my “closest” friends have left me feeling this way, and the actually close ones later ripped me apart for doing this to myself.
I don’t need people to say nice things. I don’t need them to buy me many things. Just once in a while, paying a little attention to the things that matter to me will help.
I should pay more heed to myself, and stop making excuses for other people. Because really, someone else’s extreme insensitivity should not be making me feel guilty – just upset. And I know now that being upset with a friend does not diminish your love for them in any way. And it hopefully won't be misconstrued either.
On an entirely different note though, the Lambasting Friend has a surprisingly tender and possessive streak towards me. He declared that after this particular incident, no matter how close I am or how ironed out differences will be, he will forever be prejudiced against my Upsetting Friend. For the sheer fact that I was upset.
And that nearly makes up for everything.
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Learnings (Part X)
(I wrote this sometime last week, but I didn't have the time to post it. So delayed and much deliberated, here it is now...)
· At what point does 'much' cross that fine line into 'too much?
· It should be illegal to not be alone, but be lonely.
· Too much independence can be a bad thing. NOt just in the non-adjusting, rebellious way, but also in an underdog-creating, disadvantaging, meek-making way.
· Psycho-somatic illnesses are completely for real.
· Starting trouble rarely prevents an engine from running smoothly.
· When a path has been won by deep rebellion, and stubborn resilience, it more often than not loses its gilt and gets rather tiresome.
· Everything wrong in this world can be set right by curly-haired, dimpled men.
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Over the past week...
I was trying to impress the one man that matters most, and Murphy did his thing.
A pipe-burst at home
... resulting in a water shortage for three days
... resulting in us running back and forth lugging buckets of water
My stove that ran out of gas
... resulting in a half cooked meal
... and tons of wasted food
... and loads of veggies, milk and other things being donated to a little school down the road
My workplace exploded into frenzied activity
... resulting in days that lasted over 15 hours
... and less time with him
I've sighed so much (in frustration, sorrow, resentment and finally resignation) in the past few days, that it's going to take twelve years of only breathing in, to make up for all the exhalation.
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