There’s a time in every person’s life that gets lost in transition. Straddling the gap from adolescence to adulthood is like having one foot planted on excited beginnings and the other is balancing on melancholic endings. It’s as if life is in limbo; you’re not sure where you stand in this new chapter. When moving to college, dorm life felt more temporary because I knew I would go “home-home” for school breaks; there was always a sense of reunion–it didn’t feel like a separation. Now, in an apartment, there’s something more permanent–despite my ability to return home, no matter how limited. Still, it starts a sequence of places of living that become even more farther removed from real home.
While driving back and forth between my two homes, I took note of the rusty gas stations and town signs, trying to familiarize myself with this new distance. It was like I was travelling my literal limbo–between my new life, on my own, and my old life, left in the past. I could feel the shift from responsibility to exemption, risk to safety. What moments captured my past, present and future all at once? Which spaces once felt so familiar, yet now feel so foreign? Where can I find the same places of comfort in my new life?
There’s no going back to ruminate in the comfort of memories; I must pass through this lost point in time and will continue to more lost points. Perhaps this feeling will go as I experience more changes, but for now I choose to get comfortable in my personal limbo.