I’m sitting on the ground in my soon to become house. I stare outside out of one of my windows. Can I get used to this place? Will this feel like my own place? But I don’t know.
Others seem to be more excited and happy about it. I know this is not ‘the place’. I don’t have an outside, I live in the city.
In my heart, I know that this is not where I want to live ‘forever’. Yet I move here.
Because sometimes you have to step in between, if the jump is too big.
Well, I don’t know. It’s just weird. I don’t know why I find moving so weird. But going into a new place, dropping in just like that, is just weird to me.