Because I like to pretend my life is a narrative, It amuses me greatly to locate little possible symbols and metaphors in my day to day life and attach some significance to them
This is one such thing that relates very much to something I’ve had on my mind lately.
Tonight, I was attempting to navigate down my hallway in the dark. I didn’t want to turn on any lights and wake up the rest of the house, but I was feeling pretty confident going blind. After all, I’ve lived here nearly all my life, I’ve made that midnight creep down the hallway hundreds of times.
But tonight, for the first time, I misjudged the distance and ran into a wall. And I banged my wrist, which now has a rather large bruise on it.
Recently, I’ve been thinking about how the town I live in and my life at the moment is something I feel very ready to move on from.
The friends I once had have either moved on themselves, or we’ve simply got nothing in common anymore. The friends I’ve made since all live elsewhere.
I have one job that I hate, and one that although it’s alright, is a dead end.
My parents are talking about leaving town soon, and starting up again somewhere new.
I have no relationships, no commitments, no clubs or memberships, no activities, no sentiment, nothing really.
In short, I have nothing left that’s keeping me here. Only time.
It’s become a matter of thinking “only four months to go.” “Only three months to go.” “Only two and a half months to go”.
Until I can leave, and start living out the possibilities. A new city, a new job, new people, new chances.
I’m ready to leave this town. I don’t feel like I belong here anymore.
And tonights clumsy manoeuvre down the hallway felt so entirely appropriate. The things that have always been familiar and automatic aren’t that anymore. I feel clumsy and out of place. I feel a longing for something new.
My wrist is really hurting.
And I am a massive cliché. I know. Leave me alone.