Yep, I’m still alive. Homesick, but still alive.

I’m really not a bad person. I saw an engagement today after Bible study and didn’t cry! Actually, I had a bit of dust in my eye, but the secret gangster in me I decided to high five people instead of openly sob. I believe they’ll have a great marriage. I just honestly haven’t had the time to give a decent update in recent days. In between packing and whatnot, I got a call to temp full time for a while at the University, which started today. That left me the weekend to begin picking up the broken pieces of my heart packing, though I’m still in denial that I even have to do it… I kind of feel like the kids in Recess, from this episode.

I…shall not, I shall not be moved. I… shall not, I shall not be moved.
Apartment 301 has become my Old Rusty. My refuge when I was sick, and my hideaway when I didn’t want to be bothered. It was my home for 3 years, and heck, it felt nice to call one place home for so long… Moving around so much when I was younger left me with some kind of thing with stability. Although sometimes I couldn’t stand being here as witnessed by my weekly rants of “I can’t stand this forkin’ house!!!” I guess I’ve placed more emphasis on this than I thought I had, and it’s really just hitting me now. I’m actually feeling homesick for a place that wasn’t technically a home. For me, home’s always been “where your stuff is.” Now, home’s where my stuff and heart fight for the extra bedroom space, and I’ll miss it. 🙂

I’m sure I’ll be okay without my Old Rusty. And even when I miss it, I’ll still have the memories.

Off to bed, my sleep schedule is also forked.

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