Another day, another realization

I. Have. Too. Much. Crap.

Okay, so I’ve been packing. This is an understood statement by now, but damn. I feel like there are small little elves who are running about my house creating more stuff for me to pack. I don’t think people actually realize how much junk they accumulate over the years of living in one place.

However, it made me realize a few things about myself. For example, I have an extreme obsession with candles. I have them all over the house and of all different smells and colors. I really forgot how beautiful a room can be with an ambiance of the dark delicately touched by the soft golden glow of the candles coupled with a bottle of wine and sweet, soft and melodic music. I’m looking forward to my very first night in my new place. When all the boxes are unpacked, all things put in their new homes, and the place feels like home and I’m able to call it that – home. My new home.

That night I’m going to cook myself dinner and open one of my good bottles of wine and light every single candle I own. I’m going to turn off of the lights, listen to my music, and eat my dinner – it will be my very own night. My own night to make it as I please.

The other thing that I realized is how far out of my way I am going to make things easier on him. He’s not lived in this house for the better part of seven months and for those seven months I’ve looked around every corner with memories of “him”. Pictures, objects, things that remind me of him. It’s kind of sucked and 90% of the reason why I’ve not liked being at home unless I absolutely have to. But what have I done? I’ve boxed every memory, every photo, every anything that has some type of connection with me to him to make it easier for him. Opening these things when I get to my new place is going to absolutely suck, but so long as I make things easier for him then it will be worth it.

The last thing I realized? I’m a push over.


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