‘Every end is a new beginning.’
‘I like beginnings because they’re so full of promise. The first page of a book, the first day of a job, the first time you buy yourself flowers, the first date[…] I like beginnings because I know there’s always more to come.’ – Shyma Perera
Moved. And we only lost the dog once.
Charlie had been quite upset and confused in the week before the move, so we decided he wouldn’t go on holiday to his auntie and uncle’s or he might think we had abandoned him. Most of the time he wandered round the new rooms, being nosey, but at one point he decided to go a bit further. He wouldn’t run away because he’s a big feartie, but he is a bit daft and must have thought the estate was his new garden.
Apart from that, everything went smoothly. The weather was beautiful, and I like the flat. I hadn’t seen it before, but it is perfect for mum and dad now that my sister and I are away. Of course, there are still rooms for us, so I finally had the chance to paint my own room. Twenty-three years before my parents trust me with a paint brush, and it was only because the carpets were coming up two days later.
I was a bit surprised when I found out that the five tins of ‘Cream White’ would be going on all the bedroom walls. I distinctly remembered a conversation with my mother in which she asked me what colour I would like my room. I said ‘blue’. She heard ‘blue’ and decided ‘cream’. I reminded her of our conversation and she pointed out that she only asked which colour I would like; she never said I would get it.
Aside from the uninspiring colour, the room is very homely. My parents got me a new duvet set, (blue) blind and lampshade, but all my furniture is laid out the same as in my old room. I would post a photo but some stuff is still being stored in it, so it doesn’t look as good as it will! Instead, here is a photo of how unhelpful my sister was on moving day:
I didn’t cry on moving day after all. It was bittersweet, but I think having so long to prepare for the move meant that I had already started to cut my ties to the old place. And, although it has been my base, I haven’t spent that much time living there over the past few years. I left home for the first time fairly late, when I was twenty and going on my year abroad for university. That year away made me feel like anywhere could be home and at the same time nowhere was home. I realise now that I always had one foot at the old house and the other elsewhere. I leave a bit of myself everywhere I fall in love with, but I always knew the other places were temporary, while I thought home was a constant.
Now I’m not rooted anywhere; it’s scary and liberating. And it is perfect timing. This summer, everything changes: I finish my postgraduate degree, having finally chosen a career path, and will have to leave my lovely Edinburgh flat and – the saddest part – my wonderful flatmates. I am looking for my dream job, which is going to be difficult to get, and I will most likely have to move to London for it. It’s just a matter of when.
It’s about time to start all over again…