A place of my own

Tonight is my last night in Halls. Tomorrow I will pack up the last few bits of my stuff and walk out the door one last time. Right now, I can’t process that.

This is a place that has come to feel like home. These four walls have seen the ups and downs, tears and laughter of my life over the past 9 months and its strange to think of it as a place that I won’t be able to come back to.

Sure, there are things that I won’t miss like the lack of buses that come out the far  or my walls shaking when my flatmate closes their door. I’m not going to mourn for the lack of loud music next year or the appalling state of the kitchen sometimes.

But it feels safe. At least most of the time.

I know that I’m moving on to bigger and better things, but this room, this space that I’ve called my own, will always be important. It’s my first home away from home and I’ve grown as a person here. Although it’s not physically that big, its a lot to say goodbye to.

So, thank you, room 8 of flat 6 for providing shelter and warmth, for keeping bad things at bay and for keeping my secrets. I’m grateful for all the experiences, good and bad, and I won’t forget my time here.

Now, it’s time to say goodnight for one last time.

 

 

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