I move out tomorrow and it definitely feels like the place isn’t exactly mine anymore. I’ve been very content here. It’s always been a relief to come back to this place that was empty of people but was also very comfortable. I can’t say I’m particularly attached to it. It’s been a little weird living in a place that is really someone else’s—certain closets full of their things, their plants growing in worrisome directions, their mattress making my back feel twisty. I’m starting to see it the way it was when I moved in, before I covered it with my things. But all the same, it’s always a little weird for me moving out of places. I start to think about how I became comfortable in one place. I was especially sad to leave my and Grace’s apartment when we graduated.

I can’t believe it’s been a year since my job in Reims ended. My second-years are done with classes forever (except for the odd one or two who’ve decided to pursue another degree) and my first-years are soon to be third-years.

Last year at this time I knew that (please tolerate how convoluted this will sound) I would have done my year in Reims all over again if I could have. So far I can’t say that about this one. Maybe I should just wait till September and see how I feel then.

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