I just realized how depressing my last post was, so I figured I would attempt to write something a little more cheerful, in this case, about moving out.
I moved out of my parent’s house two weeks ago. Simple as that. Just up and left for the first time ever. I just got back from a shower, which succeeded a 5am run, and now I am listening to the morning sounds, breathing the beautiful Arizona air, and staring silently as the firey lights of my candles illuminate the room.
Sounds pretty great doesn’t it? I cook my own meals, pay my own bills, and worry about literally nothing. There has not been a single downfall. I absolutely love it.
Surely living on my own has improved life itself, but has it made an impact on me deeply, enough to destroy that inner sadness and anger? No. For that, I will continue to seek a solution.
All is good, and I hope the same to you.