I'm sitting in my apartment working from home and it looks so empty. I'm almost completely moved out. Its been a wonderful year on Selma Ave and I'm sad to leave. I keep telling myself that I am making the right decision, moving back home will allow me to travel to Portland, Las Vegas and Argentina, buy a new computer and save up some money but I can't help but feel like my freedom is slowly fading.Having my parents so close by has had its up and downs but mostly I feel taken care of. Now I feel like I won't have much of an escape from them. Am I making the right decision? Or am I taking the safe road with my tail between my legs?
Even though I loved Selma, I never really felt moved in. The neighbors, sweet as can be, are all a family. Its like Melrose Place grew up and didn't leave and had kids. I never thought I would be there forever. I never hung up photos, bothered painting, made dinners like I imagined.
Part of me didn't want to set too many roots: still in the college mind set of live in a place for a year and then pack it all up again. I was mildly convinced I would be living in New York City by now. And here I am, taking a six week break from the world in Argentina, and then coming back, I hope, fresh and ready to take on my goals seriously.
