End of an era.

I woke up today with the rays of the sun touching parts of the wooden floor of the second story of my apartment. I peeped at the window and saw the sun right in front of it. I immediately remembered that this view was the reason I fell in love with this place in the first place. I manifested an east-facing apartment with wooden floors and a space for my plants.

This apartment gave birth to a lot of shadowplay.

I love this apartment.

One week from today, I am finally leaving this apartment after two years of staying in it. I knew I needed to move months ago, but I arrogantly stayed until the universe took matters into its own hands and left me with no choice but to leave. I know I want to be elsewhere. I know I’m done with this city, so I traveled a month ago in search of the perfect apartment.

To be honest, I haven’t found the ‘perfect’ apartment yet. I found one, and its proximity to the life I decided to choose for myself is there. The distance from the place to the salt water is less than 50 steps. I can already imagine solo bike rides in the morning, mindlessly strolling, in awe of the new sights to see, and dropping by the market before going back home to dip in the salt water with the dogs.

I’m getting carried away again. Let’s go back to this apartment.

I really loved this apartment to my core. I loved it so much that I didn’t even want to get out of it. But like a lover, this house has many red flags, which I covered to my liking, just so I don’t have a sight of its imperfections.

I guess I will always be that person—the person who always sees the best of things in front of me. It had brought me tears, experiences, and lessons I wouldn’t learn elsewhere. As much as I know I’m meant to be here, right here, right now, I know in my core that I am not meant to stay.

I question God about why he had to evict me the way I got evicted. I guess he knew that if he didn’t take matters into his own hands, I wouldn’t move. I will stay inside this box because it feels safe. It feels comfortable.

But there is no growth in comfort. There is no growth left in staying on the safe side of things. I may have wanted to stay and ride the roads that lead to the same place over and over again, but I know I am meant to do other things. I am meant to see more. I am meant to do more.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11

I’m holding on to this Bible phrase whenever I doubt my next move. I know there’s no right or wrong decision, only lessons. Maybe this is just really the end of an era for me—to give birth to the start of a new one, a new one that has always been dancing in my mind. A new one that I always wanted to do but didn’t have the courage to do so just yet.

But nothing; no one is stopping me from doing the things I want to do anymore. Ships have sailed away from me, and I may be left with broken wood—just enough to build a raft—but I’ll take it. I have a really good talent for making use of what’s left of me. I have a really good talent for making things work.

So let’s start putting those talents to good use.

I have spent the past three weeks fitting my life into storage boxes I have owned for more than a decade now. I used to own a lot; I used to be a lot, but life has transformed me into who I am today—a brand new person—and I really have very little idea on how to navigate through this. But I know I’ll find my way. I always do.