Trying to move out of 223 Maupin right now. Taking all the scraps and junks off the wall. Taking down posters. Looking around constantly, uselessly. Heart beating harder. Drowning in my own sentimentality. It's scary. This is like dismantling a life. A bigger deal than anticipated. Why is it? Why is it such a big deal? I've moved so many times before. Packed up boxes and left places, blowing kisses and hiding tears or not hiding them. But this time is different from the other times.
I think it's because every scrappy scrap of sticker and crap and sticky note and piece of junk is completely mine. A scrappy piece of life that I've made on my own, completely own - or at least as "on my own" as I've been in my life. Everything I'm going to have to pack up was put in its messy place was put there by my hand or foot or whatever. Every piece of writing or drawing on the wall was created by me or by friends or friends of friends and I experienced it being created. Every mess is mine. Every beautiful thing is mine. Every.thing. is a part of this life I've made. Here. And it's hard to take it all down, I guess.
And all that just magnifies and makes me think of how it'll all be forgotten after us. Especially with Maupin being torn down. All these memories we made and places we touched will be gone. And we will probably never be together in one place like this again - even the people I never got to meet, dear unknown Maupin-mates (this strange first year identity that will hold us together as this weird group forrreverrrr). Yeah I'm a sentimental Sally, but can you really blame me for fearing my own forgetfulness? It's the scariest thing, I think - my own surprising ability to lose things from my brain and heart. Stuff just tumbles out - that's why I photograph documentarily and write so often about "thisverymoment"s instead of doing homework.
maddie and madison at maupin
So anyways, here I sit, with all my sticky notes still up around my desk carrel and sitting in the midst of my books and postcards and posters and pictures I have yet to take down. Drowning. Tired. Kind of...really scared. And all this talking about on my own/the fact that Maddie is sleeping making me feel really alone - haha silly. The only thing that constructively keeps building up is the increasing volume of the sighs filling the atmosphere. And can you really even call sighs constructive?
I know I'll probably look back at this post and feel dumb but here's to capturing the moment. Clicking the PUBLISH POST button...n o w !
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