You ever get that feeling and realize that you’re entering a new chapter of your life? Rhetorical question, because #1, no one is actually near me to answer the question and #2, I know you have felt it. While this feeling can be incredibly joyful, exciting, and symbolize growth there is something missing from the conversation, and that is the mourning that comes with missing your old life.
I recently picked my life up, once again, and moved. (moved back to my hometown, but still moved.) In the last week, I got up, anxiously sat in a crowd, walked thee stage, and the next day was driven to my hometown to my new apartment, whom I share with one of my better friends from high school. With all of that happening in less than 24 hours, I am now thinking of my old life that I left behind.
I spent the past two years in Boston in my graduate program, and it was an experience. Aside from questioning every week if I made the right decision pursuing a graduate program in the middle of a pandemic, I also found myself feeling incredibly lonely at certain points in time. Upon making relationships and feeling integrated into communities, I found the pros outweighing the cons. I was less lonely and had concrete relationships. In other words, I had recurring characters, a plotline, a rising action, a falling action, a climax, etc. But like all good things, it came to an end. The end came in a blink of an eye, and then I was in a new apartment planning my new life.
I grieve the mundanity of Boston. I was on a panel sometime in February with fellow graduate students at the time, and I mentioned that one thing I enjoyed in the city was running errands. There was something in going to the library, and just looking angry in the city, or just simply walking to Trader Joe’s while holding a coffee and a book. Everything felt like an adventure, and something needed to be discovered everyday. There was something new around every corner. Being in the city, and being on the T and having my headphones in was such (lack of a better term) a vibe. It was simply my go-to.
If you ask me, the last two years have felt like a massive fever dream.
This morning, I got on the bus to go to work, (taking the bus in Rhode Island embarrassing so do not laugh at me) and I sat in a specific seat. And I thought to myself, “Hm…this seat is so familiar.” And it clicked; it was the seat I would sit on going to campus on their shuttle. It’s the seat right next to the back door, so I can quickly make my escape when needed. Muscle memory took over and I was rudely reminded of how different my life was when I needed to pull the yellow cord and heard, “Stop Requested”.
Moving is a painful process. I’m still unpacking boxes and finding relics from the different lives I’ve lived. This is just simply a chapter in the book of my pitiful existence.
sincerely, someone who stands in his truth!
—s