Apartment #7

“Everything remembered is dear, endearing, touching, precious. At least the past is safe. Though we didn’t know it at the time. We know it now because we have survived.”

I’ll never have to go back there again… Cleaned out my old apartment yesterday. Jonathan and my sister helped. Without their help, I’d still be there. It was a lot of work. Not to mention there were tornado sirens going off in town as we had several tornado warnings from Rita passing through. And we had no radio or TV at all, leading to this:
“I wonder if it’s heading this way.”
“Well, we should know within the hour.”

In the midst of packing things up to move over the past couple of weeks, there have been several reflective moments. I came across many items that I had completely forgotten about. Sometimes I would catch myself pausing for a moment, just sitting there remembering, and smiling…

I thought about the night I proposed to her, as she sat in the bedroom floor, putting together this puzzle I used to have. And the look on her face when I surprised her with a ring.

I thought about the night we lost it, sitting on the couch, both in tears, as she gave the ring back to me.

I remembered having a roomate for the first year and a half I was there. No food was safe.

I thought about the time Bunny’s psycho ex-boyfriend came in without knocking, accusing me and everyone else of causing them to breakup.

I thought about the time the cops almost broke down my door because everyone thought I was dead.

There was the time we filmed the Look Mom, No Life pilot, our closest brush with fame, which turned out to be not very close at all. And I discovered that it’s not really that difficult to memorize lines when you shoot each scene ten or fifteen times.

There was the night M and I suddenly just decided that after two years, it just wasn’t working. And I remember as she walked out feeling that this was something that I was going to miss.

I thought about how I used to sit there singing along to the digital cable music channels as T laughed at me. She must have been in love.

There was the Dodge-Dart-yellow stove (which fortunately died and had to be replaced) and green refrigerator. Those I won’t miss.

And of course, there was my surprise birthday party when I turned 26. I never had a clue what was going on. That will always be one of my favorite memories…

I was the last one to leave yesterday. I walked thru every room making sure I wasn’t leaving anything behind. They were empty, far as the eye could see. But they were full of memories. A few I mentioned here. Some probably shouldn’t be mentioned. And some are stuck between the pages of my mind, just waiting for me to come across them again. I think I am learning quickly that it is OK to have memories and to cherish them, as long as they don’t interfere with the present. The past is part of who we are. I just wonder why it often seems so much better now than it did at the time.

Before I closed the door, I took one last look back inside. For the past eight and a half years, this was where I had slept (almost) every night. Of course it was more than that. It had been home. And home is important, no matter where it may be.

“Sit here on the stairs cos I’d rather be alone. If I can’t have you right now, I’ll wait dear…”