Shades of Grey

On the way home from visiting a friend’s new hip pad, emotions at the thought of moving out was mixed —especially after mom called and hung up on me as I was getting in a friend’s car for a ride to the skytrain station at quarter past midnight.

There are a lot of ideas of how to utilize the space in the apartment. Yet I know even with dividing the place into sections wouldn’t give me as much privacy as I would have at home. Then I thought about sleeping arrangements. Even though I grew up sleeping on the top bunk with my brother on the bottom bunk for the first 11 years of my life, I have since gotten used to my ultra-comfortable double bed when I moved here. Leaving my bed ranks top, among not wanting to leave my room and not being able to take everything I have, of the reasons that makes this moving thing difficult (I suppose more emotionally than physically).

While I know my reasons for moving out are mostly selfish, I feel that it’s an important step that I need to take for myself. Living at home is not only limiting my creative capacity to some extent, it is somewhat a burden.

I was having a hard time finding a place to settle. Between excited, agitated, distracted and confused, it felt as if I was having a mild asthma attack and unable to catch my breath. The more I think about what I want, the further away it seems to get. Now that I’ve seen the place that could potentially host four girls, the more real this whole thing seems to be. It slowly becoming a reality —or so I hope it will— is quite simply those emotions blended together with a hint of doubt and restlessness.

Doubt, because I am questioning myself: is this really for the better? Should I really leave my mom and bro on their own? What if I’m not as independent as I thought I am and it turns out to be a disaster? Do I really have the guts and will to finally be on my own? Restlessness, because I can’t find the answer to all those questions. Even if I could, weighing the Pros against the Cons doesn’t seem to produce a definite winner.

A friend once said, you can never be ready for something if you don’t take that first step. For me, that would be talking to my mom about this whole flying the nest business. And then I hope the rest will figure itself out.