Today two big things happened:
We turned in our keys. After living in an awesome and practically brand-new apartment building near downtown Seattle for the last (almost) two years, we moved our final few things out today and said goodbye. The final few minutes were all a bit of a blur: grabbing the last couple boxes, closing the door without much ceremony, catching the elevator downstairs. We squished everything in the car and handed the keys to our concierge, and then walked out of the building for the last time. It was over so quickly I couldn’t quite process it. But as we drove away and back over the water to Davis’ family’s house, it hit me that we can’t say we live here anymore.
My car is gone. Saying goodbye to my car was a bit more emotional. Which honestly was a bit unexpected, as I loved my car but never felt that attached to it. I was a bit on-edge all day waiting for the carrier to come pick it up, but when he finally got here, the whole ordeal was over in less than five minutes. One second it was parked in front of the house, the next it was going away on the back of a truck – without me. I know it’s still going to be in the family and that it’s going to a good home, but it choked me up all the same.
We are without a car and without a permanent place to stay here. In the last 24 hours we have morphed back into the visitors we were during college.
Reality has set in bit by bit over time, and today, two of the big pieces, the moments of, “Oh… I guess we’re really doing this” have taken place. To say that my keyring feels lighter seems like a gross understatement; it’s only keychains now. I don’t belong anywhere at the moment, have nothing to call my own. The future, which I know is so exciting, is also terrifying me a little. We’ve taken the leap; now we’re in the air before we land on the other side.