Yesterday was moving day. We rented a truck and a passing stranger on a scooter helped us load the motorcycle. We spent the next 20 hours packing boxes and cleaning the apartment. My parents generously offered to hold our stuff for us, so we drove the truck 400 miles to their house and filled a spare bedroom from floor to ceiling with boxes. I’m so tired. I’ve slept five hours a night this past week and said so many good-byes to people I love that my heart hurts. I am moving away from my friends, my coworkers, my gym. I am sad that we won’t be quite as involved in each other’s lives, but grateful for the friendships.

