One Week.

One week today I shall be moving out of my family home. One week. That’s seven days. 168 hours… Less than that now.

And guess what? Boxes lay on my bedroom floor. Empty boxes. No I have not finished packing. Of course, I haven’t even started! Whether it’s the procrastinator in me or the fear of leaving home stopping me, I’m not quite sure.

But I do need to pack. Because no matter how much I try to ignore it the plain and simple truth is that this time next week, all (Most) of my belongings shall be in an entirely new location. Heck by this time they may even be unpacked into my new room. Geez now that is scary. Shipped 1 hour and 43 minutes away from here. Away from this house that, after being here for 7 years, has become home.

Now moving out for anyone is a daunting experience, no doubt about that. If I was moving out to live alone maybe I would feel better. That would be manageable. But I most definitely will not be alone. I am being plunged into a building, riddled with countless perfect strangers. For I am not the only person for whom Monday the 19th of September will be a memorable day for. Hundreds of students and parents lives will alter, never to be quite the same again. In the same way that a broken mug that has been super-glued together again is never quite the same. Something, an intangible something, shifts ever so slightly. You can’t put your finger on what has changed, but everything feels different.

Children who are no longer children are left to fend for themselves for the first time, leaving nests empty. Thinking about it. It is the parents I feel the most pity for. They will return to their homes that are so familiar to them, just for everything to be different. Whether their child’s presence was a passive one or if they were the heart of the home. That home that parents spend 18 years building is torn. Now they have to learn to create a new family dynamic. Of course if younger siblings are left at home then the parents role continues. The gap is still there but a distraction is in place. However, for parents with only children or if it is their youngest child fleeing the nest, then that is when the tragedy occurs. What do the home-makers, the stay at home mums and dads do with all of their spare time? Sure they still have to care for themselves. They still have their daily deeds to complete. I imagine it is surprising the void that can be created by the lack of an extra mouth to feed. One less set of clothes to wash, person to speak to. Of course in today’s day and age communication is at an all time high. Never before has staying in contact been this simple. At the touch of a button conversations can be held face to face. (Or rather face to screen) The efficiency at which information can be transferred is incredible. Although I do fear for these parents, that their children having their taste for freedom and independence will become ‘too busy’ to touch base with them half as often as they should. I hope I am wrong. I have a feeling I am correct.

I pledge to disprove this theory. But I am young, flawed and terribly human. Forgive me in advance.

What an awfully big adventure these next three years shall be. I hope against hope that it lives up to my every expectation. Sadly in life, things rarely do.

Through it all I shall remember to smile…It wont hurt me. 🙂

 

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