Although moving day was last Sunday and my awesome friends did an awesome job of helping me move all my questionably awesome furniture into the new house, there was still cleaning to be done at the old place last night. My idea of a good time does not include cleaning two bathrooms, one kitchen, one laundry room, two bedrooms and one deck. But it had to be done. When I was finally finished it was nearly 10 o'clock, I was exhausted and the whole place smelled like Simple Green. I stepped outside for some fresh air.
As I stood out on the deck I realized that soon, I'd be locked out of the building. That I'd no longer be able to simply step onto the deck to watch the Fourth of July fireworks. That I'd no longer be able to sneak a glance at Mt. Rainer on a whim with such little effort on my part. That there would be no more rooftop BBQs with friends. That my home would no longer be within leisurely walking distance of the Fremont Sunday Market, some of my favorite people, or The Dude's office. That the sights and sounds that I'd lived with for the past five and a half years, would soon be a thing of the past.
It's true. I won't miss the college kids, or the congested alley, or the horrible building manager, or the noise of the drunk people as they stumble home from the Fremont pubs on a Saturday night. But I will miss the familiarity of what used to be.
From the deck I decided to take one last photo of downtown but as I looked through the viewfinder I realized it simply wouldn't be able to capture the moment. I put the camera down to take it all in one last time. The sights, the sounds, the memories. Then I stepped off the deck, snapped one last picture and drove home.
And now it's just an empty box.
