a new morning

i made it.

just short of having a mental breakdown and developing an alter ego who can handle all the pointy boulders life tends to send along, i've moved into a new place (literally). for awhile i wasn't sure it was actually going to happen, but despite every obstacle known to man, i slept in my new bedroom for the first time last night. is it symbolic that i spent the entire night on my stomach? i'm too tired to face the wide-openness that now stands before me. (but who would wish to be more crowded? maybe i just feel secure under the weight of a few down comforters.)

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i'm the kind of person who always finds these Firsts & Lasts very meaningful. i can feel my soul re-shaping itself to fly from a place i'm leaving or settle into a place that's new. it's invigorating, but it's painful too. the last time i slept in my old apartment, i cried into the dark remembering all the life i'd lived between those walls. and last night i stared at the unfamiliar contours of the room and wondered what life i've yet to live here in this place (literally & figuratively).

i don't know if i'm ready.
i don't think it matters.

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this morning i began my commute with my window open, but even the wind against the car frame was too loud. so i rolled it back up, and when its automatic hum ceased, it was just me in a Toyota-sized bubble, floating along the road amongst all the other cells traveling their suburban arterial routes. i felt altogether one with these other car-shaped packages of life and also completely cut off and separate from them; as if i could loose something in my soul, break through the invisible walls of the city, and fly, fly away.

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photo by mads teglers || some mature content