Like a million little doorways, all the choices we made

I'm now officially homeless.  I closed and locked the door of the house for the last time this evening, set the security system, got in the car, and drove away.

I drove back there from my ex's for the last time tonight, driving down Saint Paul St. and then up Charles St. for the last time.

I spent the evening in my ex's apartment for the last time, although we chose to say "see you soon" instead of goodbye, echoing my last Baltimore lunch with my friend Polly this afternoon.

I took my house keys off the ring tonight, adding them to the pile of keys I carry with me always, but will likely never use again.

I'm homeless, and feeling at sea.  The second hardest thing for me (after all the emotional things) is that my routine is completely shattered.  I'm trying to remember that even though it's difficult, it's a good thing.  The whole point of this exercise is to create a new life, and that means clearing out as much of my old life as I can, as I need to, so this new life can emerge and grow and thrive.  

The drive across the country is an important part of this, a literal transition to move me from the old to the new.  I have to remember to honor that process, and not try to short-circuit it, to let this rebirth happen, even through the pain of it.

5 days to Portland ...