I’ve given myself a deadline to whether I’m moving back to my hometown or…Well, I haven’t quite decided on a plan B yet. But as April draws closer, I look around my little studio apartment that has been my home for two years and think…I’m not leaving anything behind. Each object, has a story that I know I’d want to remember when I need to focus on the good things.
I’ve experienced it, and accepted it, when I moved to Italy after finishing my studies in London. I took whatever I could with me, because they had lived with me and experienced my ups and downs. I came to Italy with 5 big bags carrying everything I needed to feel at home. To create my safe haven.
So I went online and started doing some research on being materialistic and stuff, and of course, all what came back was how buying stuff doesn’t make you happy. I get that. I get how they do not ‘solve’ anything. That they do nothing against the thing that made you buy that stupid expensive thing and on top of that, made you go through buyer’s remorse. But objects, some objects, bought during certain moments, like a t-shirt at a concert, a souvenir in a foreign country, that mug with the quote that made you feel like you could actually do it. That pretty dress you wore once, but that on that day, made you feel beautiful. The jar that holds your favourite cookies.
All these, do nothing to help you cope with the stress, the uncertain future, the depression of a gloomy day…but sometimes they offer a place to rest. When experiences and memories can’t get through that thick wall of darkness, they offer a small window to help them get through and remind you of something happy.