Moving out…

There is something interesting and weird at the same time when you move out of a place you’ve rented and lived for a while. Technically speaking, the place was never yours, and yet, it was home.

My Geography teacher back in high school told me something I’ve never forgotten: the animals, the plants and all living things adapt to the circumstances they are in, the human being is the only one that adapts the environment to himself. And here I was, in this place I called home, trying to erase all evidence I was here once. Taking down the posters, one by one; putting my things away in boxes to be transported; cleaning each spot thoroughly; putting everything back to its initial position. If we transpose this condition to science, I would say it is like conducting an experiment with controlled variables; I am the object to be studied and the subject: how I would adapt in this given environment. Once the experiment is over, it is time to put everything back to where it started, so that the same experiment can be conducted with another human being, in the same situation, once I leave.

There are no regrets, I am grateful for having lived here on my first semester of living in Kansas. I’ve had some really tough moments here, dealing with the cold, with loneliness, with true despair over finals, long nights spent over books. But it was also through this window that I saw winter become spring and spring become summer. I’ve seen leaves grow on trees, and white snow turning into green bushes. I’ve pulled through, and I found friends to be on my side. In the beginning of this year I did all the moving by myself, cause I had nobody to count on. Today, I have many friends to help me out and move to a new apartment.

Looks like the old Wizard of Oz just showed me my own journey to find the things I needed in life. Good bye old place, may the new cycle begin!