You know how when something sad is headed your way and all you can do is think about how it will feel once it gets there? 24-7?
I wake up every day thinking, “Only X more days in this bed looking out this window at those mountains.” I cook and think, “Only a few more times using this stove.” I do laundry and think, “Pretty soon I won’t have my own little laundry room and someone else will have this washer and dryer…”
I sit at night and look out my living room windows thinking of all the memories we’ve made here.
I pull out of my driveway and tear up watching the garage door close, wondering how many more times I will see it do that.
Yeah. That last one is getting a little out of control.
For me, it’s like the dread and thought of saying goodbye for the last time to my home is nothing compared to the days leading up to it. The thoughts of doing it. I cry imagining myself crying as we leave.
I don’t know how to get past this – the unending “last times” or “16th to the last time”. It’s quite annoying really – I should be spending my days thinking of our new place and all the fun things we can do there.
Instead I’m dwelling on August 15th – the day we leave. August 14th – the day my house is empty. August 13th – the last day our house has furniture in it. August 12th – the day we pack almost everything up.
:/ I’m a mess.
The funny thing is (besides the fact that this post is actually making me giggle at what a disaster I am), is that once we are at our new place, I will be ok. I mean, I will miss my house, my family, my friends. But I got there last week and I was excited. I kept telling myself, “See, you like it here. Remember this feeling when you go home.”
If only I could hold on to that a little longer. I just want it to be over – and I feel guilty because I know once it is, I’ll want it back.