Tying up loose ends is never really any fun, mine coming with what
seemed to be an ocean of stress, fear, and sadness. When I arrived back
in LA to pack up my life, I just wasn't sure how I'd fare as I walked down the long hallway to LAX baggage.
But as I approached its end, the warm air teasing at me from the opposite side of the hall, I realized that something was different this time, because what laid beyond that hallway strangely didn't feel like home anymore, but instead just an ugly, dirty world that I was no
longer a part of.
For two days we packed up my apartment, though now, it didn't even feel like a place I had ever even lived in. Everything just felt unfamiliar, as the California sun still shone, and the birds still sang despite the fact that I was about to leave them all behind.
When the Pod arrived, it truly didn't seem possible that all of my life could fit within its sixteen foot length. And it actually almost didn't, as I watched the movers shake their heads in worry at the thought of cramming our eight years of stuff into such a small space. It was quite a scary five hours, as I wondered which box of memories I'd possibly have to leave behind. But it eventually thankfully all fit, as I watched the movers slowly close the Pod's door with the kind of pride that can only fill those who think they have accomplished the impossible. And as they drove away, leaving us alone in our now very empty apartment, I could suddenly hear the terrible echos of our movements off the walls, each reverberation seeming to tell us that we were no longer welcome here.
Our going away party wasn't as sad as I thought it would be but maybe my thoughts were already back east by the time we walked through the doors to join the festivities. And although I thought seeing all my friends together would bring me some sort of happiness, it oddly only reminded me of how much time we had lost away from family while being in California; each group of friends symbolizing a chapter in our almost eight years of residency. And as I talked to every wonderful person who had cared enough to show their love for us on that particular day, I suddenly realized, like it or not, that I would probably never see most of them again. A fact so depressing it could only be eased with the thought that losing them might mean gaining some new friends that were just as amazing.
I must admit that it was a bit surreal watching my little brother say his "I Do's" right there in front of my eyes almost two years after I had done the same exact thing. He wanted his wedding to be a weekend away from all of life's distractions so that we could all be together in one place for one purpose. And although I admit I grumbled a bit when I discovered that our hotel room would not be equipped with a television or at the lack of cellphone service, in the end, the absence of technology made it possible for me to connect on an even greater level with all of the people I cared about. There were actually whole conversations without a single person checking their email or answering a text, which I found lead to more genuine smiles, laughter, and a much greater appreciation for those around me. It also came with the notion that I didn't have to leave this time and that this celebration was just one of the many that I would now be apart of. But the thought that truly brought the most joy to me was the simple idea that I would now be able to visit my brother and his new bride whenever I wanted, and that our future children were destined to be great friends, instead of just distant cousins. 
It's funny how something seen from the corner of one's eye can have the potential to change their life forever. It was an advertising company that I had randomly gone to meet with last summer just to get some info from. But honestly, when I finally made the move back to Boston, I hadn't really even given them much thought at all. But one day something made me think of them, and as I clicked on their website and saw their ad for an in-house copy writing class, I knew I had to go for it. They were only letting in a few people, but those lucky few would get an intimate course in writing from the president of the company himself. So I decided to tell them that the reason I wanted to take this class was purely because it might finally let me take a bite out of that cake that had been teasing at me since the day I had moved to California. Their class simply was a chance for me to have everything (being a writer and being with my family), and I just couldn't let it pass me by. So long story short, I got in, and so far it's been quite the motivational experience. An experience that has truly given me the hope that I may have just found my niche out here in Boston and that it's suddenly very much a possibility that I just might get everything I want out of life. 
