The Light In Me Will Guide You Home

This week, I packed up 20 years of my life in order to move just 5 miles from the home where I grew up. It's just as hard as you'd think it would be, but I know that it was going to happen at some point. That point just happened so suddenly and so soon.

Today was just preliminary moving; some bags here and there, a few lamps, and box or two. It was strange stepping into the house for the first time, knowing that it's supposed to be home now, when it feels like anything but. The second trip there was easier, if not exactly normal. It's sad, knowing that this is the last night that I'll spend in the house where I had some of my best memories. So much of me has happened in this house, and it's difficult to let go of that. I have a hard time with irrevocable change; I hate knowing that we won't ever be able to come back to this. I keep telling myself that the new house is good too. It has a spectacular view, and it will start to feel familiar soon, but I still can't help but feel nostalgic. In the end, though, I know that it's more important to be with my family and the people I love, even if the house isn't the same.