Cleaning up

Well, I finally put away and dispersed all my Belgium stuff that I just had laying around.


...

It was HARD.

=/


I didn't realize how emotional it would make me, but I felt like I was going to be physically ill. I didn't think that all that 'junk' (and, believe me, it's a lot of junk, Ralph can attest to that, he watched me pack) would mean so much to me, but it did. Even just to put it in a box, outta sight and mind, was harder than I expected, and certainly not fun. It felt more like I was a string being ripped into tiny little threads, one piece at a time.

I guess I just didn't want to face the idea that I was never going back. I know I don't have to think about it that way, but it's a chapter finished, maybe, so I guess the past becomes the past and I have to move on. It's ok for me that I'm not in Belgium, but it's sad for me that Belgium will never be the same again, in the same way for me.