When an ending is just a new beginning

My roommate turned best friend moved out of our apartment yesterday.

And while it was an exciting event, at the same time it was one of sadness for me.

There was much joy because she was moving into her very own space- one that she had purchased. There was happiness, because how can you not be happy for someone who is gaining their stride and chasing their dreams and ambitions?

There was sadness as I loaded boxes onto the truck. There was sadness as I returned home last night to an apartment that while still full of furniture and things, felt ever so empty. There were tears (only a few, maybe 7 total) as I realized that my ending was her beginning. Home suddenly felt lonely and quiet to me.

Today, waking up alone in my apartment, I was suddenly filled with a sense of beginning. This is another new beginning for me. A new roommate, a potential friend, will move in. And we will muddle through the first few weeks until suddenly, hopefully, we click. And that sense of home that I feel is missing will return.

I know there will be times where I miss her lots, but those times will be made better with a text. And I know I will still see her, especially since she moved just a hop, skip and jump away. There will be dinners at her new place, and afternoons spent knitting. It's not an ending. Just a new beginning.

Until my new roommate moves in, I'll be spending my time alone watching Netflix on the couch, pant-less, and listening to the Frozen soundtrack on repeat. Loudly. (Sorry neighbours!)

I'm also bringing back the pop in. If you're in the neighbourhood, feel free to pop in. Don't text, just come. If I'm home, we'll visit, if I'm not.... well, better luck next time.