EPTToday is a special day I guess. For some reasons.
I just woke up in the middle of the night. That happens way too often. I tried falling asleep again but I couldn't so I got up even though it was 4AM and I only slept for a couple of hours. I wasn't tired anyway, I think.
My old room where I am sleeping is completely empty except for my bed so I get up and head for the dining room where my laptop is. The entire house is pitch black but that doesn't matter, I don't need light here. Putting my feet on the floor beside my bed I feel the gnarls and knots of the wooden planks. I move my feet to the floor boards I know will creak the least when I stand up so don't wake my family. Taking several steps I slightly lean forward and reach my hand out into complete darkness. Without touching the door I close my hand around the handle. I don't think during this, I am still too drowsy for that. I walk across the living room, around the sofas that aren't there anymore and onto the stairs. There's a bannister but I don't use that. My parents put it up maybe a decade ago because people would trace a hand along the wall for balance while walking down the stairs but I am still used to feeling the uneven stone under my fingertips, makes me feel safer. I couldn't tell you how many steps are down the stairs but I still know when I'm about to take the last one. I walk through the hallway towards the kitchen, only stepping on the tiles that I know the old underfloor heating keeps warm. I stump my toe on a cardboard box. Fuck. It's full of porcelain and it makes a loud noice. That box isn't usually there and still half asleep I completely forgot about it. This woke someone up for sure. Entering the kitchen I reach my hand out into the darkness again but I stop. There are two lightswitches, right or left? This is the last time ever I get to do this, I should really get it right. After no deliberation my hand simply flips the left switch. Wrong, for the billionth time wrong. That's for the kitchen light, not the dining room light. I smile to myself.
My parents just sold this house and this is my last day here. They bought this place sometime after I was borne because there wasn't enough room for three kids in their old house. My father was working a full time job but he still found time to rebuilt the entire house in his spare time in the evenings and into the night. He's not a professional mason or carpenter though, so while everything is pretty well made, it's not perfect. The house has so many small quirks and so much personality that I grew up with and learned at the same time I was learning to walk and learning to talk and learning to be human. I gained an intuition for this house that I will never have with another place. And not just this house but also the small town around it, I know all the shortcuts and all the potholes as I was a paperboy here when I was a kid, and I know all the paths and many of the secret fruit trees and hidden bushes with wild berries in the nearby woods, one of the biggest in Denmark where I spent a big part of my childhood playing. But now we're leaving. I usually get sort of melancholic about these things but not this time. Maybe I've emotionally matured out of dumb shit like that. Thank god.
Also, it's my birthday. Horay? I don't much celebrate my birthday. Why don't I much celebrate my birthday? I think it's because I don't enjoy the attention. A "Happy Birthday!" is okay, but a somewhat shy guy like me doesn't like to be the center of attention. I am very grateful that people exist who would do things for me such as bake a cake or buy a present but overall I just don't enjoy the attention at all so I don't actively advertise it to everyone around me. Maybe there are also other reasons for it? Anyway, coincidentally some of my old childhood friends asked if I wanted to go out with them tonight which is perfect. I get a fun night out without all the, to me, unwanted attention that comes with a birthday party. Horay!
Tomorrow is a new day. I'll be back in Copenhagen to resume my studies.
