Boxes and bags, and unclaimed clutter litters the floor of our small Distillery apartment. Blinded by the new morning sun, I step out of bed to get ready for this difficult day ahead of me. Looking around, I am surrounded by my life folded neatly into over a dozen boxes. One year has passed since I made the move into the distillery and just as quick as it came Nat, Witt, and I prepare ourselves for the move.
As we packed the remainder of our things, we began to reminisce on memories that have been shared in this apartment. To think about the tears, love, heart ache and happiness that was within these walls, we cannot help to feel a strange feeling of melancholy.
Down on our hands and knees scrubbing the remnants of our stay, we all realize just how much has changed since we first moved in.
August 2014 – Nat and I unloaded our belongings. The simpler times of the previous summer, donning my famous white man bun, I look out on the historic city around me. I was not the only one ready for a new beginning, Nat had escaped the suburbs and was ready for a new adventure. Coming a month behind us, Witt came to Toronto as a new being…someone stronger than before ready to take the punches as they came. As we all faced our own natural and emotional disasters, we found solace and strength in one another. We found an escape for the pain on the outside, for we had one another.
“If the walls could talk”, they would have secrets to share. It is astonishing at how so much can be changed all in one year. Packing the trucks full of our belongings, the three of us will be separated for the firs time in a year.
I am reminded of the final episode of friends as they leave the home that they grew to love. We know in our hearts that this move is not a series finale, but we have reached the ending of our season.
Looking at the situation as a television show on the CW network, we are left to wonder if we will be renewed for another go at primetime… We are left wondering if we are able to pick up where we left off.
This is not gossip girl. This is not desperate housewives. We are not a sitcom. Our lives have no writers, and we do not know what will be happening in the season to come. This is the difference between television and real life. Behind all the cameras and properly lit sets, is a polished script that has been edited to perfection. Unfortunately for us, we are living our lives unscripted… Unaware of what is to come. Maybe that is the fun of it all? Maybe it is the ambiguity of our futures that will keep us moving forward until the next day?
For those wondering where I will be/what I will be doing, that is a fantastic question. I have no idea.
I have had to make some readjustments in order to figure out what the future has in store… I can leave myself to ask all of the questions I need and try to make plans for the unscripted future, but to quote Natasha Beddingfield, “The rest is still unwritten”.
As we pack up the final boxes and make a quick sweep of the perimeter we realize that we have finally come to the end. Flicking off the final light switch I pause at the door. Looking around at the barren apartment I whisper a goodbye as I close the door behind me for the final time.