The Feeling of Leaving
My brother moved out of our family home a few months ago to live in a condo with his girlfriend, and it's left me with this weird mix of happiness towards him for having reached such a milestone in his life and anxiety about myself for not reaching that next step yet. Being the older sibling by two and a half years, I guess I always had it in my mind that I would be the first to move out, but things haven't quite gone according to plan yet. Homeownership doesn't feel like an impossibility per se, but it still feels a bit out of reach at the moment. That's besides the point though.
For years, I've always imagined what it would be like should either of us move out from home. I dreamt it up to be this big day that would be filled with watering eyes and long goodbyes, but when he moved away it just sort of...happened? There were no cardboard boxes with our pasts packed away to be whisked to their new homes, no late nights sat at the dinner table looking back at all the memories shared, none of the pageantry that I thought would be associated with a new chapter in one's life starting. I'm not really sure what the whole point of sharing this story is, except that maybe it's to express how it just surprises me how quickly life changes and passes by.
Sometimes I feel like I want to mourn something that's been lost, but my brother's still around, we still talk and see eachother regularly, but I think it's just been hard getting used to this feeling that's simultaneously different but mostly the same. Generally, I think our relationship is good still, but I think it's just the feeling of coming home after work and seeing his empty room next to mine that's got me feeling kind of down. I'm not sure yet if this is a feeling that I'll get used to. I think I will eventually, but probably won't notice it by the time it happens.