EP. 6 moving on, moving out

i'm in the process of packing up all of my things, which turns out i have way too many of. i find it a bit paralysing actually, both to have such a task in front of me, and to actually own so much shit. something about owning things has made me feel really sick lately. i just don't think i ever really considered how much stuff one person can actually own. i always knew that people tend to own a lot of stuff, but i don't think it's ever until you actually have to do something about it that you realise how much of it is actually useless junk. this is fun too, because now that i'm wracked with the guilt of owning things, i'm also now wracked with the guilt of throwing things out. 

i also know that rationally, as far as a lot of people go, i really don't own that much stuff. i'm usually pretty conscious of what i buy and i try not to acquire too many things that i don't actually see a use for. but still i seem to have ended up with a lot of things i've owned for years that just don't suit me anymore. somewhere along the way i've developed feelings for these objects and these clothes, and parting with them feels like a tragically long overdue breakup with someone you once found comfort in, even though you're probably no longer meant to be. somehow that weird shirt and those odd figurines just really speak to a part of me that i used to treasure, and how can i let that go?

i did recently-ish go through a breakup of my own. it was a relationship that did once bring me great comfort, something and someone i knew almost better than myself, and so it felt like it was right and made sense to hold onto. but as most of these things go, i realised that it wasn't something that was serving me. admittedly, i held onto it maybe a little bit too long. again, for that comfort thing. maybe it feels a little bit shitty to compare a person i shared an important part of my life with to old clothes, but i think the sentiment is there, and you know that that's not what i mean. i think i'm just trying to say that i have a habit of holding onto comfort and holding onto things that once fit, past the point of it making sense to. 

in the time since my breakup at the start of the year, i've been dissecting a lot of my old relationships and the way they served me. what i learnt, what was valuable and what was a waste of my time. i think that i've gotten to know myself a lot better through this process, and i can now say with a lot of confidence what is and isn't good for me. i spent a lot of time thinking about a particular relationship from several years back now, and the stars even granted me a bit of extra closure when he reached out to me to talk. venus retrograde is crazy let me tell you. but it was nice to get that bit of closure. enough time had passed where i was no longer angry or upset about the relationship, but admittedly still a little bit hurt. it felt almost like fate when he reached out to me though, i'd just been speaking about him with a friend, found an old birthday card and even went to a different state and ended up on a street with the same name as him all in span of about a week. when it rains it pours, huh. 

for transparency, i want you to know that i'm writing this as a form of productive procrastination of packing. i have several half filled boxes and a suitcase in my room waiting ever so patiently to be tended to. this is even the second suitcase, the first one has already made it's way over to my new place so it's not like my efforts are entirely lacking. i want to be further along in the process but i do not have a car or even a trolley, so pretty much everything that's been moved thus far has been by hauled over by foot. this is an easy enough job seeing as i am super jacked and am not moving very far at all, but it is a tedious process and i can only carry so much at a time (not because i'm not strong enough because i can bench like, so much, but just because there's only so many boxes you can carry before obscuring your field of vision). 

being out of a relationship is nice i've decided. i spend an ungodly amount of time with myself and i'll be honest, this has had a bit of a learning curve. i think the longest i've been really single since the point in time i started dating (about thirteen years old), has been about four months. yes i am aware that this is somewhat horrific. i am also aware that this is a sign of low self esteem, to which i say... errrrrrrr shut up? instead of it being a low self esteem thing, i actually think it's a comfort thing too. which maybe go hand in hand. but because i learnt what it was like to have a counterpart at such a young age it just always felt like the right thing and felt natural. i don't necessarily think it's a bad habit that i've picked up, but i also don't think it's a very good one. i'm taking this opportunity to really be a person and deepen my very fulfilling relationships in other areas of my life. going on this journey of singleness in my twenties and soon to be living by myself is really awesome. am i shit scared? yeah sure. but am i tremendously excited for what it all has to bring? absolutely! i am welcoming change and new opportunities with open arms. i haven't quite decided where i am on the dating front yet. it's not a strict "no one in my life" policy, but it's definitely not something i'm actively pursuing, for pretty much the first time in my life. 

i was recently asked out by a stranger on the street. he was very respectful about it and wasn't weird and creepy at all, which i think is a rare occurrence these days. i think about him a decent amount actually. he wasn't particularly a looker by any means, he was a bit off putting behind those crazed yet kind eyes, and it made him really beautiful actually. he was also definitely upwards of forty years old, which is only slightly out of my age range, but i did have to turn him down because of it. if he'd been like thirty-nine maybe i could have let it slide. maybe i should have said yes to that peculiar man on the tram! he didn't look like he'd be secretly evil and maybe he'd have a stable high paying job and could take care of me. i think i'd make a good housewife. maybe he'd even have kids from a previous relationship i could bond with, granted they'd be barely young enough to comfortably refer to me as their step-mother. i'd have to be like "hey guys think of me as your cool older sister who sleeps with your dad!" this took a really weird turn, sorry team. 

this feels like a great place to end this entry, i will leave you with that weird visual of me as a frightfully young step-mum with a much older kinda funny looking partner. happy saturday, guys, stay safe out there. you never know which stranger that you meet tonight will become the love of your life.