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So I finally caved and tried to clean up my room a bit. Which is more complicated than it sounds because it’s not clear at all how to find a place for everything and put everything in its place, least of all myself at this moment in time.

Stability may be an illusion, but my frustration with living out of a suitcase forever is not.

At first, the suitcase is the best defense mechanism, the sigh of release that this is all only temporary.

And then things get chaotic, partially because I have too much stuff, but also because you can only live out of a suitcase for so long.

It’s hard to know what to put where when you don’t know when you’re leaving, and hope to God it will be not too far away, despite your current contentment.

So I am done living out of suitcases, mentally as well as literally.

This existence is transient, sure, but sometimes you have to just be fully where you are, and I’ve never really committed to anything too definite.

That”s why getting a job and starting a life scares me. Sure, I’ve been a good student, and I have made promises and kept them.

But the foreseeable, indefinite future of adult life, the seeming monotony until something happens, which seems like its a calamity, that is something pretty far from me.

And lucky for me, I have a suitcase. And I can pick it up and go when the time comes.

But now it’s time to admit that I’m just tired, and I don’t want to live out of the suitcase anymore. Life is the road and the road is home, but I also need something a little more solid right now too. Not saying it’s for everyone but…

I don’t want to be a prisoner of my own wanderlust.

And I’m not the type of person to put people and relationships and passions into a box, lock them up when the time is past, and throw away the key.

No, I want to plant a little garden. Actually just have a plant or two in my kitchen. Not quite ready for a baby, but maybe a cactus or a cat, a window of my own that lets the light in, and to let chaos turn to a deeper order, if only to be better prepared when life happens next time.

Yes, I feel almost ashamed, the world traveler hanging up her gear for the moment, a child growing up in a way. But Peter Pan isn’t really free- he’s stuck in neverland.

So I zipped up my suitcase, messed everything up, including my feelings, in search of an elusive and temporary order, and I declare to you: I’m taking a little break.

No matter that it could be a long, long break, longer than I intended. Life has happened to me too, and I’m a little tired and scared.

But all will be well. I’ll have my cactuses and plants and little room that makes me feel happy again.