It’s appropriate that my last night spent here would be rainy. After all, thunderstorms were always my favorite in the Mill. I loved watching the lightning out my window, listening to the rain and thunder.
I’m sitting on the floor as I write this, surveying the massive amount of shit I still have left to do. But it’s getting there, and the end feels attainable again. There’s a certain appropriateness with it all as well- I can feel the ending of a chapter, and the beginning of a new.
I spent so much of this month completely overwhelmed both emotionally and physically. Leaving Belgium felt easier, like a cleansing process. I came to the country with my two suitcases, and I left much the same. Anything I didn’t need, I sold. Anything that didn’t have a memory attached to it was thrown away. It felt easier, knowing my time in Gent had come to an end, and when I left, I felt everything had resolved itself.
I was ready. I was willing.
But this, this process feels entirely different. It struck me unaware and broke my heart. It felt like a bad breakup I hadn’t seen coming, and I fought every inch of the way. I refused to succumb to idea of leaving, even with every apartment showing, every call from the realtor.
But tonight, I’m done. No tears, no nostalgia. Just simple acceptance.
And as odd as it may seem, I’m feeling especially grateful. I have a family that’s taken care of me throughout this hellish process. Everything from moral support to helping me pack my bags, to welcoming me back home for the few days in between my moves. I’m so, so thankful to have a support system like this and my heart is full. Truly, I don’t know what I’d do without them.
Now, my life is packed up in boxes again, albeit, there are significantly more now than there were before. Every thing is neatly lined up, awaiting the next adventure. And as I sit here, listening to the rain wash the earth, I find my own cleansing process. Sometimes, you need to surrender to the storm and wait for calmer skies.