before, my old flat permitted me to decide to pack up and just leave any time i felt like it. it's not that i can't do the same with my new flat, but i've emotionally invested myself quite a bit this time by personalising it to an extent. in my mind/heart, i know i do that because i want to make this feel more of a real home. i want it to belong -- to me.
the thought of that, while somewhat warm and fuzzy, also tends to send me into sudden momentarary panic -- have i tied myself down? committed myself to this place? am i bound, am i stuck? -- before i quickly remind myself that i still have the power and freedom and mobility to move any time i really wanted to... it's just a matter of casting aside all these physical belongings, these material things, no matter how much time, effort or money i've spent on them; they're all just sunk costs. no need to fear.
i like to think of myself as logical like that.
so i should have no qualms putting my heart and mind and soul into doing my best about the new place. to try to just live in the present and stop always trying to prepare for the future, which might never come to pass anyway.
i'll hit my second anniversary here in just a few days. by which time, i might be too busy moving altogether to blog at all (not that i've been particularly conscientious about that of late). i'm not sure what to say; i have many thoughts, as always. they're still mainly just thoughts of gratefulness and thanksgiving -- for the ones who gave me a chance, for the ones who made it so unbearable that i wanted out and as far away as possible (and i mean absolutely no malice), for just everything always falling into place so well it's hard not to believe in God.
maybe, just maybe, after my move, i might just be ready to take another big step in my life. only maybe. or maybe not. i don't quite know yet. i'm afraid, as always. i will be patient with myself.