What is it about moving that makes even a much-wanted relocation so depressing?
When I first moved into my Westminster apartment, I was coming from two low-ceilinged rooms in my grandmother’s attic, where I’d lived for about a year and a half. The plentiful windows, ceiling fans, and large rooms of the new place made me feel like I was on vacation, even as I was scrubbing the former tenant’s grime from the floors.
A year and a half later, it’s my grime to be scrubbed from the floors. The apartment no longer feels like a vacation home, but more like the spartan, rundown, thin-walled hovel that it is. And yet today I found myself looking over the living room full of boxes feeling a little wistful, and not just because of all the work still left to do.
I’m moving in, as many of you know, with my boyfriend. We’ve been living together in a lovely little house since mid-November, so I figured it was probably time to have all my stuff join us. One of the problems, though, is that since the boyfriend came from a six-bedroom house, we already have more than enough stuff to fill our three tiny bedrooms. So as I’m packing, I’m thinking, “Where the hell am I going to put this?” One possibility is to put off the unpacking until after graduation and a subsequent move to a more permanent residence.
And that brings me to the other problem, not so much a problem, really, but the other reason for my wistfulness.
I, of course, moved to Westminster to go to McDaniel. I was excited, scared, and unable to see the other end of the journey. That would be the end of the journey I’m now rapidly approaching, and my time at McDaniel has been far more rewarding than I ever imagined it could be. The fear about what comes next is beginning to set in. So leaving the apartment, something I assumed I would do in late May, feels like the beginning of the end for this somewhat unexpected respite from the working world.
And that’s enough to make anyone wistful.
the last week i’ve awakened to soul music on the radio. somebody’s been looping the same playlist on a station that sells broadcast time to the hour to anybody. trying to compete with the internet, i guess. every morning i’ve heard “i never never had a dream come true” by stevie wonder. that is a wistful song. my friend thomas and i sometimes write very very sad music. towards the beginning of college our music was totally chaotic. now it’s formed into something more whole. the song by stevie wonder is bearably sad because there’s great backing music, very powerful gospel/soul type stuff. he realizes that reality will never live up to his dreams, and that’s sad, but the music in the background makes it feel okay. i guess that’s what gospel is about, accepting and moving beyond sadness and pain.
anyways, i’ve been feeling wistful at times these past few weeks, but it’s a coherent emotion which i can accept instead of dwell upon. that’s not something i knew how to do 4 years ago.