So long 1202…

Sorry for the infrequent (read: nonexistent) posts.  I got busy at the end of the semester and since then my waking hours have been dedicated to finding a job, a place to live, or both.

Last night (well, this morning if we want to be technical), I moved the last of my things out of the house I’ve lived in for three years and a couple months.  It was strange.  It still is.  I stayed in town, hoping that being half-way between both Richmond and DC will increase my chances of getting a job – and, quite frankly, I still like Fredericksburg.  I might not for too much longer, but it’s not a bad town – sure, a little too high-traffic for where I want to live long term, but it’s not that bad – and I have a lot of great friends here.

But I digress.  As I was finishing cleaning the old place this morning at around 4 AM, I moved the last remnants of what my life was there into a borrowed truck, did my last walk-through, turned off the lights and locked the doors, it struck me that the house I was leaving was the longest I’d ever lived in one continuous place without parents, that I had been the only constant roommate for the past three years (I had 6 others at various points),that the house had seen me travel to two countries and to a place I used to call home half a country away, that I had made some of the best or become much better friends with several different groups, that the house had seen me change a lot in three years.  I realized that I had romantic relationships and friendships fall apart in that house – mine, others – that I’d come pretty close to losing my mind while I was there (maybe I did, I’m still not quite sure.  Maybe it’s still in one of the copious amounts of boxes I have scattered around my new place), that no matter how hard you fight sometimes, you can’t win; that the house had seen me change a lot in three years.  I repeat the last part of the first sentence not just to be poetic, but because it really is true.  Rarely do we change only for the better or worse.  Sometimes we just change.  I’m not sure which of those three really happened to me, but that house was a big part of my life (roughly 1/9 for those keeping score at home).  I know I’m not going to miss that house – quite frankly, there were times when I hated the place, including recently – but perhaps there’s always a nostalgia of the good times (and, sometimes, the bad – you gotta learn somehow) when  you’re losing something, even if it’s a completely inanimate object that’s probably seen residents who were dead before I was born.

Just thought I’d keep you updated on what’s goin’ on with me.  Hope everything’s going well in your little corner of the world.


4 Responses to “So long 1202…”

  1. brandonjcarr Says:

    Nicely put, sir.

  2. justamusician Says:

    Why, thank you. It’s strange, after posting this, I almost feel I should add to it (which I could do by editing the post, but I’ll do it here because it’s convenient and I’m lazy).

    Is it weird that I have several close friends that are both close for very different reasons and I would go to with very different things or is that normal? I can never tell.

  3. Brandon J. Carr Says:

    That sounds normal to me. That’s the value of a tight group of close friends. Some can provide things the others can’t, be it insight or good cooking/backrubs or one-liners. It’s rare to find someone who you can turn to for absolutely everything. And that’s normal.

  4. Alan Liddell Says:

    I see your webzone and raise you a pizza roll.

    But no, I won’t miss that house at all.

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