If Walls Could Talk.

I remember the feeling I had as I walked into the second floor apartment and slowly moved my stuff in from the basement. There was this sense of sadness because it felt like I was leaving my "teenage/high school" years behind. Which I was. Yet still I was so excited, because of the new life I was going to live. Which I did. That time of my life even has it's own smell. Every chapter does, though.

My walls have seen almost everything. Man, when I think about it my mind almost goes into overload. The amount of people at one time. The number of different people. The ones that were permanent fixtures. The ones that weren't. It was quite a time. And for the past four years this has been where I call home. My home. The cool kitchen floor against my hot drunken cheek. Or the couches me & Jess so frequently pouted on due to our horny and loneliness. All of our roommates and their issues, (Kirby puking in the couch & sleeping in it). Themed parties, straight boys kissing, indoor ollying, x cherry popping, streaking, vodka waterfalls and naked manginas. My apartment literally has seen it all.

I won't say too much more, because if my walls could talk, I don't believe they'd want me spending too much time grieving over leaving them behind. We had a magnificent run and shared uber special moments and memories. Seriously, words cannot express how much laughter has been exchanged in this place. I could develop abs from how much we would laugh.
Yep, it was something awfully special.

Friday I say goodbye to my longtime friend and will say hello to a new set of walls. I wonder what new experiences we'll have together. I find myself feeling the same way I did when I moved into my first apartment. This time is a little harder I must say though. I'm leaving the nest and the familiarity I've grown to love about my crappy small apartment. All the suckiness, happiness, laughter, boredom, bitterness, anymosity, drunken times, drunken tears, busted laptops, party friends... all the pizza boxes, delicious ham dinners, horniness, masturbating interruptions, witches across the street and late night conversations that saved each others sanity....

Nostalgic is an understatement.