"All the Afternoons in the World"

There's something about packing up, or maybe just the end of the year, that's a little ... sad. Someone just came by and bought my couch & coffeetables, and while that's totally awesome, it was also kind of strange to watch this girl come in, try them out, look bright-eyed at her boyfriend and murmur that they would fit the "new place." She had that "I'm doing something new and starting fresh and it's exciting!" look, and it just reminded me of when I first came to this city. Even though I was scared shitless and already had (presciently) bad feelings about my job, still the whole of New York (which is the world) was laid open before me like a new book, all white sheets and clean edges and possibilities. Now it is five years on and it is somehow different. I will be leaving in six or seven or eight months, and I am downsizing, compressing my life into fewer boxes, ridding myself of kitchen implements and toasters and pretty but useless things I've not worn in years. I am preparing to move somewhere that I like and that I think will be fine, but it is still someone else's home, and in six or seven or eight months I will be doing the packing-compressing-ridding whirl again, and loading my suitcases into some rented van and taking the BQE out of the city for good. And even if I come back to this city someday, even to live, I do not think I will ever have the look that girl had on her face again. Well. I'm glad that my little sofa and coffee tables and pillows and pictures are going to start fresh somewhere else.