I'm still here. Sitting in this practically empty room. It's not empty, not really. It just feels that way because everything that is mine, that is significant, meaningful, has been moved. It's waiting to go elsewhere, as am I. So I sit here, staring at an empty wall, waiting for the minutes and hours to pass until I am no longer here. Until the only traces of my presence are the countless relics on my door that ceased to matter years ago, the adornments of the walls that I never spent enough time looking at.
I'm sad not because I don't want to leave, but because I am not yet excited. I rather dislike transitions. Much as I enjoy or at least appreciate the change they bring, I just don't like the process of the transitions themselves. And that's what I'm in, or at least approaching. I don't know when the transition technically starts, or if it did months ago or if it hasn't for a couple of hours yet. In any case, I know it has at least a week to go before it's over, and that's what I'm waiting for.
Transitions aren't terrible or evil things, I know this. I also know that these sorts of things push me into uncomfortable territory that I often find to be completely unnecessary. Then again, I've already had the experience I needed to learn that I find people I like in ways other than forced introductions, whereas many of the people I will be forcefully introduced to will not have experienced these sorts of things.
My tone is odd. I'm trying to distance myself right now. If I wasn't, I'd be hyperventilating and losing track of things amid my nerves. As it stands, I'm just fine. Not quite excited, but ready to get this over with, at the very least. I don't really know what happens from here, and I don't know if I will have time to blog tomorrow (just reiterating the warning). In any case, I hope it all goes well.
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