While I hate starting over, this feels like a new beginning.
I return to my old apartment for the first time in two years.
The starting place of us.
Anubhav Saxena
The ending of us.
Its the first night and I cant sleep.
I toss and turn and wake up at 4:46 a.m. to wander the streets.
We used to wander these streets together early in the mornings, unwilling to fall asleep.
Time was so limited and wed make excuses to find every spare sidewalk space to stop.
I remember roaming these streets breathless, full of life, anxiously waiting to see you again.
This city was my home.
I never wanted to settle until I met you.
You let me believe that stability was good and letting go of self-reservations was worthwhile.
Im loathing turning any corner, knowing there are spirits dangling our memories above my head.
Every memory catapults inside my stomach like an unexpected plot twist during a film.
The sun begins to peek above the trees, eyes squinting to adjust to the daylight.
It was a dream I never wanted to end.
I wonder how I missed clues to our end all along.
I sat atop the ruins, overlooking the tourists I used to adore.
I love that about this city tourists are here regardless of the time of year.
It bleeds romance and mystifies centuries of change.
I slip my notebook out of my pocket and write, This is a new beginning.
Its painful to scribble that after once assuming this was a permanent home.
It was just a necessary stopping point in time.
I fly off to the city of lights.
We always joked about how much I hated the people in that city.
Ive started to love the things we used to hate.
One month later, I have fallen in love with the city of love.
Isnt it funny how life can throw you unexpected surprises when you least expect them or want them?
And while I hate starting over,thisfeels like a new beginning.
The path here was breathtaking, turbulent, and heartbreaking.
This new construction of me is tainted, fragile, unpredictable.
