Moving out

I can still remember how I found out about the vacancy post of what eventually became our apartment unit. I was about to be married and desperate to secure a place for my husband and me to live once we did. Counting the days before we finally move in together, I saw an ad on carousell.ph for a property that deeply appealed to me: a one-bedroom apartment unit with many windows, letting sunlight fill the whole place.

What’s even more interesting is that it’s on the same street as the girls’ dormitory where I was living at the time. I can imagine how I don’t need so many adjustments since the neighborhood has been my home for almost a year already. I also know how prime the location was, so good for settling in as a new married couple, with so many public commons within reach.

It was our wedding month when I finally had the chance to visit the unit. Just as it looked in the photos, I never even doubted it would be the place I wanted to live in, primarily because I have a thing for windows. Have you ever had a moment when you can just tell yourself, “This is it?” While my husband was not quick to buy into my vision, he sure did keep a tab on it. After we got married, we initially stayed in his studio unit before he was finally convinced that it would be our first home together.

I can still remember the day we moved in, and how my husband made sure the air conditioning was installed before nightfall so we could have a good night’s sleep. I can remember how we started to fill the place with ourselves, mirrored by the things we put in it.

I can still recall all the firsts we shared in that apartment: the appliances we were able to buy, the furniture we delayed until I couldn’t handle the mess of impermanence and fear of settling in while being a transient, the celebrations we enjoyed, the joys and struggles we shared, the food and laughter we shared, the battles we fought, and the grievances we dealt with.

It was where we first learned about each other and more about ourselves, how selfless we need to become so we could love one another. The walls have been witness to our immaturity and growth over those two short years, to the dreams we learned to communicate with one another, and to the promises we tried to keep.

It was where we first met our third family member, Novo, who came with pink paws and an attitude.

We have also opened the doors of our apartment unit to family and friends, making it truly a home for connection and relationships.

And as I am typing these words, I can still remember the final days we spent there: the nights we spent packing up all the stuff we had accumulated throughout our stay, the goodbyes we said to our everyday people, and the logistics that came after.

I can still remember our last night, which felt short, and our last day, which felt long, with the sun shining more brightly than on any other day I can remember. We’ve always known we won’t stay there for long, but the parting ways was even sweeter than we ever imagined. It could be the allure of a new beginning after an ending, I can’t be sure.