Goodbye Apartment 22

My time at my current apartment is coming to an end. By Friday I’ll be moved into a new place with April and Jana, leaving my home of nearly two years behind. I’ve had so many unforgettable experiences while living here that it certainly feels like starting afresh. I’m looking forward to being in a new environment, but I’ve so many memories associated with this home that it will be strange to leave it.

Saturday night I had a dream that seems to have sprung from the messy alchemy of having the history of this home on my mind. I was visiting with a girl who etched beautiful, mysterious and bewildering pieces of that history on the surfaces of these rooms. In a short time she defined and contrasted the life lived here more than anyone who visited me.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the dream itself was set somewhere entirely unlike here. She was living in an amalgam place, a city formed of geography, architecture and culture that should not mesh but did. It was shards of Florence, Quebec, Baroda, Rabat and other cities, entwining down each street and alley. Alive with people, but uncrowded, it seemed intoxicatingly ambrosial.

We walked, sharing lively conversation about travels, discoveries, and personal unfoldings. There was a sense of strange newness to the encounter, as though the familiarity was in the background of deeply altered selves. I was face to face with and as mystery.

Later, in the foggy time of dream, we were swimming in vibrant waters along a coastline. We entered into shallow caves and I discovered a shard of amethyst. I showed it to her and she warmly shrugged, then nonchalantly opened her mouth and let fall numerous red, green and blue gemstones. It seemed she outpaced me at every point.

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