Perhaps I’m weird, but I’m sick of beginnings. I’m sick of picking up and starting over somewhere else. This month, my husband and I have been married for a whopping year and five months, but we just moved to our fourth address. Fourth! And before we hit two years, we’ll be at address number five. I’m really, really looking forward to the end of all this moving, to the end of beginning somewhere else every couple of months.
I’m also looking forward to not living in a college town anymore—when my husband gets on my level with his master’s degree and we can get away this May. I’m looking forward to the end of student apartments and crappy parking areas. And, if you’re also in Morgantown, WV, you’ll join me in looking forward to the end of these pot-craters (like potholes, only the size of small countries).
[pullquote width=”300″ float=”right”]I know that my citizenship is in Heaven, and I shouldn’t really try to get too comfortable here, anyway.[/pullquote]Goodness, it’s hard to write about beginnings when all I’ve been looking forward to are endings: the end of this past fall semester, the end of teaching, the end of the big global health project I was working on, the end of sleepless nights, the end of insane DC area traffic, the end of absurdly expensive rent, the end of only 369 square feet of living space, etc. (I could continue, but I’ll spare you.)
Even though it might sound like it, I’m not trying to complain. Really. I’m simply having a hard time putting into words how ready I am to start my life. I’m ready to settle down and form some roots. I’m ready to make new friends I won’t be leaving in a few months. I’m ready for something solid; life has been far too fluid.
When we move back to the DC metropolitan area in May, it won’t have an end date. For the first time, I’ll be making a permanent move. And while it may be scary, I couldn’t be more excited for that beginning.
And yes, I know that life will always be fluid. I know that real life is incredibly hard and overwhelming. I know that even once I begin “real life,” it won’t ever be perfect. And I know that my citizenship is in Heaven, and I shouldn’t really try to get too comfortable here, anyway.
But, shoot! I just want a place to call home. For good.
I want a city to call my own. I want to be able to learn about a place, try its restaurants, and shop at local stores. I don’t want to be a tourist in DC anymore. I’m sick of standing out; I want to start blending in—in a good way. I know this will all come with time, but oh! How I want it now!
All endings are followed by beginnings of some sort. Finally, the beginning I’ve been looking forward to is on the horizon.
Only one more ending to go.