146st and Willets Point Blvd, the cusp that seperates Flushing and Whitestone Queens. Tomorrow I leave the apartment that I associate to most as home, the nest i grew up in. As a family we spent the longest run of consecutive years in this apartment (maybe 12 years), my brother and I grew up and both flocked out of this very place. But tomorrow will be the last time i say good bye. Mom and Pop are moving, to a more suitable apartment for the two of them, at the end of this month. And I'm absolutely supportive of their decision to move; it would be better for them to not be constantly reminded of an empty nest and to have something as exciting as moving to change the pace. Letting go and moving on is an emotionally taxing thing to do, but there's only one option- which is accepting the unrelenting movement of time and continue trucking along. Here i go again, my emotions making a prominant appearance in my life. Oh how bittersweet, but dwelling on it would only make the situation seem unnecessarily depressing.
C'est la vie.
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