Bye..bye house no 203..
It’s not the first time I move out from a house, I’ve been doing this my whole life. I’m used to the feeling of moving in a new house, the almost extraterritorial like feeling when I first step into the house. It was empty and strange, hollow somehow. In time, little by little the furnitures start to fill the house and soon I would call it home. My temporary home. I would start to decorate my room, make it as comfortable as I can but then a the little voice in me would say , ” Don’t put too much effort in it, soon you’ll be out of here.” Do I ever grown tired over the years? Well I don’t know, for me it’s like a chore that become a habit.
Then finally came time to move again, the packing, the last minute shopping and piles and piles of boxes. This house no. 203 become a warehouse for awhile. Emptying my room is always the hardest part, I feel the memories flashing back ,of all the time that I’ve spent in that room. The air goes heavy as if it says don’t leave. I would ignore it and close the door, trying not to turn. A tear used to fall down on my cheeks back then, but not anymore. Soon I’ll be doing this all over again, feeling the same thing all over again. But for now, I say good bye to the house no. 203.