My sister once said of my last apartment, you could stand in the front doorway and see everything there was to see. While she did have a point, as my apartment covered a massive 600 square feet, I tend to disagree with her. Although small, it was hard to appreciate all of the tiny little details from the doorway alone. This week I closed the door one last time on that apartment and though I'm elated at where my life is taking me, at that moment I couldn't help but think back on the past twelve months.
That apartment became my stability last year. Its four walls sheltered me from a world falling to pieces. A world that I had created, was crumbling around me due to the effects of my own actions. But those four walls remained. And they weren't alone. The beautiful pine floors, having been there for over a hundred years, remained as well. They had knots and scuffs that recorded the previous inhabitants daily comings and goings, but in the afternoon the light would fall and the scuffs would disappear. Only the rich, warm glow of the wood was reflected.
Both the walls and the pine floors stood as a testament to the continuation of life. Regardless of what the world deals you and regardless of what troubles you bring on yourself, life keeps moving.
