A few editions ago I wrote about changes that influence your life. The change I was referring to at that moment was our pending apartment move. Not a major thing for most people, I know, but big enough for me to stand still about. So, we had to leave our apartment where we had lived for 12 years. We were lucky to find a new one we really liked almost immediately after we started looking, which in a city like Paris isn't always that obvious. We changed the new place even more to our liking, prepared ourselves, physically for the move and eventually the day of the move arrived. Now we are installed for a bit of time and most is unpacked and found its place in a new surrounding. We are happy. It is nice. But what I hadn't anticipated is the emotional aspect of moving house after such a long time.
Like I said before, there are worse things in life than this, but I have to admit, the emotional effect of moving from a place where you have lived for a long time is much stronger than I could have thought. The day of the move, we split our work responsibilities. My boyfriend stayed in the old apartment to make sure everything would go well there, I spent my day in the new apartment to supervise the moving company over there. I left my home like I left it on any normal day. And so, when I went back last Thursday for the obligatory check, I was not at all prepared for the sentimental, yes, I dare to say – tear jerking experience it turned out to be. Seeing that wonderful apartment empty, that place where we spent almost 12 years of our lives. A home for us, where we lived and loved, where we had fights and moments of passion, where we entertained and where we spent solitary weekends, doing nothing but being with ourselves. Our home which two years ago also became a home for our black lab. Where we welcomed friends both for short and long periods of time, and where our love deepened and became so much more than what it was when we first moved in there. I am not ashamed to say that that moment was a moment of absolute shock and sadness. Wandering alone through the rooms memories hit me one after the other in a velocity my mind could hardly register. And at that moment, that moment when I realized that a house is more than a house, more than something material. That a house is a home built on shared experiences and emotions, I broke and I cried. Because much as I am excited to start this new part of my life with my loved ones, I also realized that is was a closure. Not only of the physical apartment, but of a room in my soul where those memories will be stored forever. It is done now, and there are no regrets. A chapter is closed, but a new page is turned and reveals a new unwritten part in the book of our lives. Here we will write a new story, but a story built on the foundations of those memories we carry with us. –BM-
Cover photography by Paul Smollen.
BEAUTIFULMAG | Everything That Is