(I sorta have no other outlet to say what’s on my mind at this moment other than here… I usually don’t like posting personal things… but here we go I guess.)
So I guess I’m moving out of the place I’ve lived in for 17 years. The place isn’t really a step up, but it’s what we’ll have to make do with, I guess. I didn’t really expect a sudden move like this; I thought the only time that this would happen is when I graduate university or at least when my parents would retire back to the Philippines and I would be fully independent…
I live smack in the middle of both my graduated elementary and high schools, and across from my street is a park and a T&T. As a kid, my friends and I would play cops & robbers across the whole complex, trudge through the “swamp”, sled down the hills with ghetto-ass plastic bags during the winter, throw shoes at the cherry blossom trees to make it rain petals, have late night talks under the stars on the benches and staircases, rollerblade around the parking lots, hold garage sales on the fields, swing under the willow tree, play “alligator” on the “red slide”, hide from “bloody mary” behind recycle bins, peel paint from the fences, climb and fall from trees, and get in trouble with the neighbours. At one point in my life, basically everyone I made friends with were Polish and I’d harsh be the token. I tried to master basic Polish just so I could impress parents and eat at their dinner tables. Slowly my friends/neighbours moved out one by one to better places, and up to now, I’m the last one standing here.
For those who have been to my house, they know it’s not a castle or some shit, but I tend to get, “it feels cozy, like what a home should feel like.” I do hate the fact that we only have one washroom since I have two parents who are seniors and you know what that means… or not? Regardless, I can’t even fathom how I will pack and start seeing the emptiness of it without being all girly/emotional about it. But gotta do what I gotta do.
Gonna miss you, homes.