02118

This week just started.  It's only Tuesday.  But it's been a wild week already!

Monday - Day 19:  Went to work, closed out a few errands and a goodbye checkup at Fenway.  Followed immediately by a night on the sofa watching Orange is the New Black.  Bottle of Zin in hand, I had a pretty wild time. Ha!

As I laid on the crackling leather of the sofa, I couldn't help but think about the meaning of home.  How this apartment has been my home for half of the last decade, and how I can sense that in a matter of days it will begin to feel foreign and distant. I nestled my toes between the cushions and wrapped myself in the green down blanket that Grandma Martha gave me when I bought my first car in 2001.  It was just in case of my truck breaking down in the middle of nowhere in the winter time so I wouldn't freeze to death.  And to this day I carry it with me and cover my toes on the sofa.

I think back to my first visit to the apartment as the end of the summer rounded out in 2008.  No air conditioning, musty smelling, a little dirty.  It was big and cheap, and so the issues I had with it were minuscule and paled in comparison to the deal I was getting.  I knew that the tiny obstacles could be overcome.

I set out on a 5-year-long journey to turn that fratpad into my home.  I cleaned, scrubbed, washed, painted, furnished and brought life to a once-forgotten apartment in the South End.  The views of the parks that faced South and East let the tendrils of a warm afternoon sun fill our abode and only added to the feeling of home.  I never anticipated living in the space for that long, nor did I ever expect to fall in love with an apartment.

We've seen many roommates come and go.  Some joke that our apartment was called the gay hostel, and others call it the Stella Towers and home for lost boys.  Three rooms were occupied for the last 5 years solid, with one turning over every year or so.  In that place I've been privileged enough to see complete strangers barrel into my life and become members of my own family.  I've seen them grow, change jobs, fall in love and move on to a home with those with whom they fell in love.  I've gone to housewarmings and birthdays, cried tears of joy and tears of sadness.  I've seen breakdowns and moments of fear.  I've seen joy and excitement.

I have been changed for the better and changed for good.  Boston has been my home.  The South End has been my 'hood.  I will surely miss Saturday morning walks with Bailey to Dunkin' Donuts, as well as coffee dates at Jaho and the Wholy Grain.  My favorite spots will become distant memories - memories of my little hermano and I celebrating promotions at El Centro, sitting at the beer garden at Stella with the board of Gateway, or scarfing down tapas and sangria at Estragon with the Friends of the Squares.

The people I've met who have touched me - and left a mark on my experience - are the people I want to remember.  I've got a treasure chest full of these from my time in 02118.  They have made me who I am today, and I couldn't be more grateful.