September 12th 2018
Today I’m sleeping in my house for what will probably be the penultimate time. I only realised that like thirty seconds before I started writing this. I’ll stay here tonight, and tomorrow night, and then on Friday and Saturday I’ll stay at my parent’s before moving back in with them on Sunday.
That’s really quite a scary, and sad thought. In three days time I won’t be in this house anymore. By the time we move out we’ll have been here two weeks short of two years. It was our first house together as a couple. And last house. And now I’m two nights away from moving out completely and I’m not sure I’m ready for that. Emotionally or literally. The place is a mess.
Although it feels like I’ve been living here alone for ages, it’s realistically only been a month. Yet somehow, this final moving out date has crept up on me silently. And now it’s actually happening. And I actually have to leave my home.
Until tomorrow, two more nights.