I’ve been feeling a whole lot more at peace in acknowledging my time here as an unintentional intermission in my life.

I usually move living locations with some sense of bitterness- at either having to leave a place I love, or running from a place I hate.

For once, I am feeling neither.

Instead, I have been feeling quietly nostalgic and grateful.

In love with my home and my friends who I have grown to love and trust. Sad at leaving them, but finally hopeful that I can one day have this sense of Home in the future within an even better context. Which is no small feat for someone who constantly believes that they will die at a young age.

I’ve been processing my sense of scarcity and my fear of misread signs/synchronicities. I’ve been acknowledging my associated pain with moving my life across the country for the 5th time. Reflecting on past moves that took place much too rapidly to be remembered as anything more or less than an additional wound to my sense of stability.

I’ve been sitting with these feelings while sitting in my favorite parts of my home.

And I’ve been getting a lot closer to my friends and loved ones. Spending more quality time with them than before, and remaining present. I wish to feel numb and dumb about it- to retract and excuse myself from the bonds that I have depended on so heavily for half of this year. But I don’t. I don’t feel a damn shred of regret over my ties and connections. In fact, I feel hella grateful to have met people that supported me and taught me how to be a better friend. A more aware ally, a more vocal participant to the movement, a more empathetic listener, and a more giving person in general.

I’ve developed a lot of solid relationships with people here, and have found myself processing the eventual move in ways very unfamiliar to me. Like becoming more sentimental and focused on the few positive situations I have experienced during my time here. I have been acknowledging what I love in my living situation and what I could stand to gain in my next one. And miraculously finding hope again in what could be “meant to be” for me.

I would normally read these positive experiences and new processing patterns as a sign that I need to stay- but I’ve found the power in reframing that mentality. Seeing these positive processes not as signs to stagnate, but a quiet allowance of my exit without the all-too familiar sensations of disconnect and abandonment.

I’m learning to read between the lines of my discontentment and connections with others. I’m learning to accept the lessons of patience thrown my way. I’m learning to not only associate change with wounds and a quick rip from all grounding.

I’m finally learning to move on without resentment or regret, and it feels fucking magnificent.

Who knew that closure could feel this peaceful?

May you be well, May you be happy, May you be free from suffering.

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