Closing Night

It is my last night in the room that has been mine for three years. It's emptier than it has ever been... even the day I moved in, when it was still full of books and possessions from the previous resident.

People have been asking me all day how I feel about going tomorrow. 

The answer is I don't really feel much. It still doesn't seem real. 

An excessive amount of baggage is coming back with me.

Even though my bags are packed, closets and drawers emptied and boarding pass printed I don't believe it... and probably won't until I'm actually on the way... until I land, spend days then weeks then months in California, forget the familiarity of riding across the river on the bus, Tuesday night Morris Dancing, and last minute theatre tickets. 

I hate endings. I always have. When I was little I used to throw tantrums when it was time to leave friends houses. I'd hide behind the sofa, throw myself on the floor, beg for just ten minutes more. But they always got me in the end. No play date lasts forever. 

As I've gotten older things have changed. Not the hatred of endings... that's still solidly there. But I can't hide from them anymore... there's no one to come drag me out from under the bed and cary me kicking and screaming to the car. So I have to do it myself. It might be slightly more dignified, but I do sometimes hate being a grown up. 

I wonder if the shutting the ending out is part of that coping mechanism. If I don't realize I'm going until I'm gone then it's not so painful... and once I'm in the new place I'll adjust quickly enough.

There's plenty to be excited about in the new place. I have the feeling 2015 is going to be a very different and good year... but then again aren't they all?

To all my California friends, I can't wait to see you! And to London friends, not goodbye but à bientôt!