It's kind of weird, actually... the idea of moving out. Two years ago, me and my family had to move out from the house we've been living for 30 years, even before I was born. That time, nothing forced us to do so. But, I guess, it's just about time to start something new, something fresh, no matter how comfortable the house was. Full of memories, laughter, sadness. I remember when I was a kid, I flooded the balcony because I was dying to have a swimming pool of my own. Here's a secret; I slept in a baby's cradle up til I was in my 3rd grade and stopped drinking milk from a baby bottle til I was in my 6th grade! I had a sacred place to think behind my house, a jambu tree; I climbed up there, and sat for hours, looking at people passing by. There was also a fish pond in the garden, and I did plenty of nasty thing there, involving frogs, tadpoles, and many more. I buried 3 cats there; Mickey, Axel, and Minnie.
I had my own room when I was in my 5th grade; my late dad let me chose the wallpaper I wanted, the color of the furniture, and so on. "Yay, I'm a grown up," I thought. I remember my teenage years, when some guys that I liked came by, and we kissed in the balcony. My dad passed away in this house too. See, plenty of memories, the kind that everlasting. It's hard to move out, to move on. But in a way, our family had to. I had to.
So, we chose this house in Bintaro; not new, not as big, but comfortable. Adapting. Start again. For a while, I was scared. It's not easy to find a place you called Home, especially when you'd been living in there for years. But after a while, I'm confortable here. I can come back, feeling the surrounding, and proudly say that, yes... this is my home.
I guess, that's pretty much the same with me moving out here. I like to write. I find joy in doing it. I write when I'm happy, but definitely more often when I feel sad and frustrated. I need to let it all out. I had a diary back in my teenage years, then moving to computer when my late dad bought me one. The blog in friendster, then multiply, for years. And today, I'm moving here.
Just like moving in, I'm bringing the stuffs that I find "valuables" from my previous home, and get rid of the junks.
I hope this new home I'm having will bring me comfort. Bring me joy. Or luck, perhaps? Hey, A girl can only hope.
(pic. from webwombat.com.au)