On Point

journal excerpt,

September 15, 2013

This is my last night in the apartment at Klippgatan. I can't believe this day has come. 

The neighbor across the street watches TV, always. The old lady is still awake, puttering about. Soon, the last sunrise over the apartment at the top of the hill. Soon, my dear sweet Sofia church will reign over other inhabitants, life will go on as though I was never here at all. It always does. 

It seems somehow different this time, like it's really become clear what a sad disease I suffer, how I may tragically walk through life never making permanent commitments, always clearing out and moving on, always leaving my loyal, supportive friends in the dust and going on to greener pastures that never are. 

This has been a great apartment. It has been a blessing. 

But I feel nothing now, 

That it's over.