And… Jump.

I am sat on my bed, as I have done so many times before. Yet I am aware this time is one of the last times I will be here: my feet grazing the wood of my room, fingers typing away, a small smile on my face.

This is also the first time I have sat here with the prospect of no return. I can’t say I am unhappy about it.

I cannot wait for the day this house becomes a home again, and is filled with laughter, smiles, and unapologetic, loud vibrancy. I know it will be a lovely shelter for somebody new, soon enough.

I cannot wait for the calls from Katie, to be able to hear the happiness through the phone, for her happiness to spark with my own. I can’t wait to see her in London and feel that un-abound joy buckling out of my body. I cannot wait for Christmas in her apartment, where undoubtedly, we will laugh so much at the cooking, from one too many wines. I look at her daily and my heart almost breaks from the pride I feel to call her, not just my sister, but my best friend. I will be on the sidelines with Mum cheering her on as she moves forward.

I cannot wait to live for myself. I cannot wait for a new city to sprawl before me, my new favourite cafes and bookshops yet to be found. I cannot wait to decorate my new room and sit on that bed, typing away. I cant wait to be telling stories to the new people I will meet, in what I am sure will be a sticky, messy, student kitchen. I cannot wait to feel the crispness of autumn beneath my feet, nor the cold winter winds tussling my hair.

I am ready for new beginnings, and I’ll greet them with open, inviting arms.

I cannot wait to be Evee in my new life, and for Katie to be Katie in hers. I am ready for it now.


Goodbye Dartmoor

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11 thoughts on “And… Jump.

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