Call me sentimental but I'm getting a little emotional about moving out of my beloved C-304. I spent my entire collegiate career in this apartment and pretty much every great memory I have about college starts or ends with my apartment. A great prefunk, a great after-party, maybe just a great party in general. There's so many happy memories in this 720 square foot unit...I don't want to leave a single one of them behind.
It was my first apartment. My first go-around at adulthood with bills to pay and dishes to do. It's the first place I got to decorate however I wanted and avoid taking out the recycling however long I wanted. It's where boyfriend and I first kissed (etcettera, etcettera). It's where I first lived with a boyfriend. It's where I made jello-shots for the first time and played beer pong on a camping table we'd set up in the carpeted living room. (Somehow we avoided mega carpet damage...thank you cheap clear beer!!) It's where I made the bestest friend out of a roommate I barely knew from high school. And its the first spacial area to make me cry...*happening right now*.
The days of swapping clothes with my same size roomie are long gone but I still miss them. Four inch height difference but somehow the same exact size and length in clothing. (Worked for me so I guess I won't worry about it.) The weeknights of random theme parties like A-B-C (Anything But Clothes) and making amazing 6-hour playlists have also surrendered to better days but every time I walked into my apartment I had those memories and knew this was a happy place to call home.
Packing up and moving out of here just doesn't feel right. And I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because I hate change, especially big change that you can't turn back. Maybe it's because I just signed a year-long lease not knowing if I'll be in this town for that long. *Gulp* Maybe it's because I wrote a $1329 check for the new place, again not knowing if I'd actually be here that long. *Double Gulp*
I'm sure it's a mix of all of the above but also because as I said before, there's so many happy memories in my apartment I worry this new apartment might not ever feel like the happy home called C-304.
It was my first apartment. My first go-around at adulthood with bills to pay and dishes to do. It's the first place I got to decorate however I wanted and avoid taking out the recycling however long I wanted. It's where boyfriend and I first kissed (etcettera, etcettera). It's where I first lived with a boyfriend. It's where I made jello-shots for the first time and played beer pong on a camping table we'd set up in the carpeted living room. (Somehow we avoided mega carpet damage...thank you cheap clear beer!!) It's where I made the bestest friend out of a roommate I barely knew from high school. And its the first spacial area to make me cry...*happening right now*.
The days of swapping clothes with my same size roomie are long gone but I still miss them. Four inch height difference but somehow the same exact size and length in clothing. (Worked for me so I guess I won't worry about it.) The weeknights of random theme parties like A-B-C (Anything But Clothes) and making amazing 6-hour playlists have also surrendered to better days but every time I walked into my apartment I had those memories and knew this was a happy place to call home.
Packing up and moving out of here just doesn't feel right. And I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because I hate change, especially big change that you can't turn back. Maybe it's because I just signed a year-long lease not knowing if I'll be in this town for that long. *Gulp* Maybe it's because I wrote a $1329 check for the new place, again not knowing if I'd actually be here that long. *Double Gulp*
I'm sure it's a mix of all of the above but also because as I said before, there's so many happy memories in my apartment I worry this new apartment might not ever feel like the happy home called C-304.
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