In four days one of my best friends in the whole world is going to leave for San Diego after which she will be heading to France for a year.
Transition periods are hard. Anyone could tell you that. I, myself, have heard the warning from my mother alone over a dozen times. Even so, it doesn’t make it any easier.
I’ve lived with Livvy for almost two years now and I have come to love her like a sister. In all honesty, I don’t want to let her go. But I am so proud of her for taking this huge leap.
Livvy taught me the truth about feminism. She showed me how to take proper selfies. She introduced me to a whole new world of music I had never even known existed and to a whole new culture that I probably never would have touched otherwise. She made our dorm room and then our household a judgement-free zone and filled the space with delicious smells and positive energy. I have so much to thank her for.
Of course, Livvy is not the only one moving on. By the end of this month our lease will be up and the Garfield girls will be moving out. Katherine has found a new home just down the street where she will be living with her cat, Penny, and a friend from her class. I will most likely be couch surfing for a week until I head off to New York City for five weeks. When I get back…? I’ll think about that when the time comes.
So much is happening and I simply don’t feel ready. It all sank in today and I just want to curl up and cry. But I have to remember that this is a happy time. Despite the fear and anxiety that transitional periods produce, they are also times of hope and reflection. Amazing things have happened in this household and I honestly could not have asked for better roommates. We’ve each had our ups and downs and we helped each other through. I love these girls. They’re like my family.
And they always will be. And as we go off on our separate adventures, I can smile knowing that we have such wonderful memories to look back on. I’ll miss the Garfield house dearly, but it’s time to move on to a new happy accident.