It was 9:30 PM when I was asked if I still want to transfer cribs. Of course I do. I really want to. Even before summer started, I always wanted to. So, wish granted, quite late for a night for me to transfer. Actually, I’m just gonna move to the place beside mine. So no hassle at all, but I still called Von to help me. We transferred my things for two and a half hours. And I’m telling you, it is not easy.
Of course, I need not to bring all the things that I have in my current room. It was so hard for me to choose if I would still bring my gazillion cans of Spuds, all the bottles of Nestea that I drank when I was still a freshman, the free newspapers that I took home from our Field Trip in History 2 last March. All of those things seem important to me. Every piece means something for me. But of course, I used my brain rather than my heart. I would have no place for any more trash. That’s why I wanted to evacuate in the first place. I’m so lazy of cleaning.
So there started my transfer. Magazines? Check! Handouts from my first year? Check! Empty bottles of perfume? Hmm… OK, they look expensive so check! Havaianas? Check! And one by one, I saw my former shelter, my habitat for one year and two months slowly losing all my possessions, as I recall the moment that I quickly said to my Mom that I want THAT place, not because I like it, but because I really have no other options because all the other places are already full.
When Mr. Heckles died on Friends, I remember Chandler (Matthew Perry) taking a last look to his place after they cleaned it. For a moment, I felt like being Chandler to my own place. And as I close the door, I felt like leaving all the things that the room gave me. Fear, bliss, anger, boredom and everything. I never expected that by that night, I would never ever sleep in that place anymore. And when I reminisce the moments that this room made me lose my mind during the times of Milenyo, or when I came back after Christmas vacation where it looked so ancient, or the gigantic spider that was crawling on the walls on my first week, I also reminisce that this is the room that saw all of me. Here is the place where I would give up, and cry for hours, feel depressed, and made me feel safe and comfortable. It was such nostalgic as I remember all those moments in the seconds as I close my door.
I already surrendered my key this morning, and I already said goodbye to the room. Though not the way I expected it, I’m hopeful that the next occupant will love it the way I do.
Of course, I need not to bring all the things that I have in my current room. It was so hard for me to choose if I would still bring my gazillion cans of Spuds, all the bottles of Nestea that I drank when I was still a freshman, the free newspapers that I took home from our Field Trip in History 2 last March. All of those things seem important to me. Every piece means something for me. But of course, I used my brain rather than my heart. I would have no place for any more trash. That’s why I wanted to evacuate in the first place. I’m so lazy of cleaning.
So there started my transfer. Magazines? Check! Handouts from my first year? Check! Empty bottles of perfume? Hmm… OK, they look expensive so check! Havaianas? Check! And one by one, I saw my former shelter, my habitat for one year and two months slowly losing all my possessions, as I recall the moment that I quickly said to my Mom that I want THAT place, not because I like it, but because I really have no other options because all the other places are already full.
When Mr. Heckles died on Friends, I remember Chandler (Matthew Perry) taking a last look to his place after they cleaned it. For a moment, I felt like being Chandler to my own place. And as I close the door, I felt like leaving all the things that the room gave me. Fear, bliss, anger, boredom and everything. I never expected that by that night, I would never ever sleep in that place anymore. And when I reminisce the moments that this room made me lose my mind during the times of Milenyo, or when I came back after Christmas vacation where it looked so ancient, or the gigantic spider that was crawling on the walls on my first week, I also reminisce that this is the room that saw all of me. Here is the place where I would give up, and cry for hours, feel depressed, and made me feel safe and comfortable. It was such nostalgic as I remember all those moments in the seconds as I close my door.
I already surrendered my key this morning, and I already said goodbye to the room. Though not the way I expected it, I’m hopeful that the next occupant will love it the way I do.
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