Two year ago, I wrote this short note on leaving when I moved an hour north to Indianapolis. I have to admit it’s different here. Bloomington is a liberal college town, full of students, eclectic restaurants and bad traffic patterns. Indianapolis is a metropolitan area (though I live in the ‘burbs)—it’s a big city with distinct neighborhoods, spread over a whole county and extending into every surrounding county.
The move to Indianapolis was a great one and I’ve loved the past two years. I’ve spent my time focusing on what I love: writing, reading, blogging, talking to people about books, writing, writing. Did I mention writing? My apartment had a wall with two bookcases, three bins of books and hundreds of YA novels filling the shelves. There were posters and bookmarks and mugs and enough YA swag that I had to start a Swagbox (made from a shoebox). But now that’s all packed away. And when I open the boxes at the new place, I’m sure I’ll set it up differently.
Because I’m leaving behind the bachelorette pad.
And moving in with my boyfriend.
Now my living situation won’t be centered around what I love, but who I love. Yes, I’ll still have my bookcases and books and swag but it might not be all together in a big display, screaming to anyone who enters which fandoms I fangirl over and what I love to read.
Our new place will be a meeting of the minds. My books and my boyfriend’s music and movies. We have our similarities—Harry Potter, Friends, Firefly, Mumford & Sons. But we have our differences too. He’s more It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia and I’m more Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. He’s more Coheed and Cambria and I’m more The Fray.
I’m excited and scared. (Don’t worry, he knows this and feels the same.) It’s a great mixture of feelings. The happiness that swells my chest. The anxiety that edges around, poking little holes. Both of them keep me balanced. Because in the end, I don’t want to be too excited, nor do I want to be too scared. I want to walk forward into this new era knowing that it will be different. Knowing it won’t be perfect but that we will do our best to keep it close.
As Monica Gellar would say, “Now I have to live with a boy!”