I feel like I probably should've written sooner but who knew I'd be busy and bustling about all week?
I sure didn't.
Well, last time I left off, I had two exams left. Needless to say, they pretty much sucked but they're over now so that is that. I boarded a plane and flew home to bright, beautiful, sunny, hot, humid, suffocating, chaotic DR. I have a lot of mixed feelings about this place.
I then went on to babysit a bunch of fifth graders at my lil bro's school all nighter camp out, went three consecutive nights without sleeping a wink, ate some of Abuelo's incredible food, cuddled my peanut-rat Suki, watched a couple movies here and there, rushed from doctor appointment to doctor appointment, but mostly, I just spent my time working.
Or cleaning out our old apartment, that is. Yeah, we moved.
Well, technically we're still in the process but that's not the point.
The point is I lived at that old house for almost nine years of my life—some of the most life changing moments of my entire existence happened in that house. Some I'll never let go of, others I'd rather forget.
I haven't moved house in what feels like ages ago, so the whole concept is kinda weird to me. Don't get me wrong, it sorta helps that I'm not even present most of the time since I'm away at boarding school for nine months of the year. But the house I come home to won't be the same one I was used to.
Our new apartment is about half the size of the last one, cozy, quaint, but more than comfortable. YD joked that it resembled more of a hotel than a house. I will admit, it doesn't quite feel like home yet. Granted, we've only lived here for about a week but nothing can replace nine years of memories stashed away in the old apartment three blocks down.
Since my dad's away, most of the packing and moving and arranging has fallen on my mom, and now that YD and I are back, we have to pitch in, as well, so we haven't exactly had a break. But that's okay.
Rummaging through closets and drawers and cabinets and old receipts and stuffed animals and torn clothes and waste baskets and jewelry boxes and book shelves put many things into perspective. The amount of stuff we'd accumulated over the years was astonishing—half of which we didn't need.
This is the first big difference between the old and the new apartment: the old one was bigger, so therefore, we ended up hoarding more than we needed, whereas the new one simply doesn't have the space for all that extra crap, so we were forced to pack only what was explicitly necessary.
At the same time, going through my parents' drawers and book shelves brought me back to memories I had long since forgotten—a Christmas card labeled
2005, a bracelet I made out of macaroni for my Mami when I was in kindergarten, unsharpened pencils from sixth grade, an autographed baseball, several CVS receipts for Advil, orphaned socks, love letters, stories I had written all the way in first grade, a rose that had to have died at least eight years ago, papier-mache hearts with scribbled "
I love you"s...
I hadn't even noticed the tears silently making their way down my cheeks as I took a second glance in the mirror. My eyes were red-rimmed and puffy (not a pretty sight in the least, if you ask me). I made sure to erase any trace of sentimentality as I walked into the next room—I couldn't have all these anchors weighing me down.
Each day went on like this, except every day I felt less and less, for better or for worse. Putting books into piles and stacking them away into boxes had become routine and I tried not to think of all the things I was losing. It would be alright, after all.
My birthday came and went. We went to go see Zootopia (highly reccommend, super inspiring), and we meant to go eat at my favorite restaurant but it turns out they were closed. But that's okay.
With the house switch and family things and college just around the corner, I sure have a lot waiting for me in the upcoming months. That comes with a lot of uncertainties.
However, I promise you all and myself that I will try my very best to be tough and to take things one step at a time. Change can be good, right?
Things'll be fine. You'll be fine, Maya. You'll be fine.
Hasta la próxima,
Much love xoxo
Maya
