There are so many things I’ve been wanting to write about

I have had so many posts swirling around in my hear. A study about goodbyes, about all the different kinds of goodbyes and how many I have experienced in the last few weeks. A post about moving on, about how excited I am about going to college and starting new adventures. A post about Kadikoy—the Starbucks, the balik pazari, the crazy lady, and my super sketchy book pazar—and about Istiklal. But right now as I sit on the floor of my bedroom surrounded by an explosion of miscellaneous objects and boxes, all I want to talk about is my home. MY home. This little apartment in Acibadem that has cradled me for the last seven years. This is the longest I have lived in any one house: slept in any one bedroom, gotten up and eaten breakfast at any one kitchen table. The apartment has changed a little over the years, but not much. The furniture in my room has been shifted about, new pictures have been put on the walls, bedspreads have come in and out. But this room has overseen my change more than its own. It has seen me curled up on my bed long after all the lights are out crying like a little child. This room has seen many desperate nights of crying out to my Father, face down on the floor. It has seen my early, secret attempts at poetry and story-writing. It has seen my adolescent journal-doodling about many cute infatuations. My artwork is on the wall, books accumulated over the years lie in stacks on every flat surface. This room has seen me joyful, deeply depressed, madly in love with my King, and horrifically far away from him. It has seen my silliness, my sinfulness, my creativity, my longings, and my crazy midnight one-person dance parties.

And after tomorrow I will never see it again.

This afternoon I laid on my bed and cried for a while. It seems strange to grieve for a room, but I did. This room has been my safe haven, the closest thing to home I have. And now “home” is being pulled out from under me and I’m being thrust into cold, empty space. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. And there’s no doubt that I will ache for this room that I love so much.