The Purge, an Epilogue: "Seattle was another girl who left her mark upon the map."

I own so many fucking things.

I own, right now, more things than I have ever owned in my entire life. Not collectively mind you, but I have never owned as much stuff at one time than I do right now.

Most people are fine with this I think, have no problem surrounding themselves with things. Now, I'm certainly not excluded from this, I like things. I like stuff a lot. But then again I'm the girl that one day donned her Chuck Taylors, threw a camera, a sketchbook, and some underwear in a backpack and left my childhood home for good. I own a bunch of stuff, yes, but I've walked from ten times that amount of stuff since I was 16.

It's weird, because I even said it in The Purge Part 10, how I am happier collecting places than things, but I didn't hear it. Not immediately. That took a while.

I've been thinking for weeks about what I am and am not getting rid of, and sometime in the last few days it changed from parting with few things to almost everything. It was like I pulled a trigger, and once I could wrap my head around parting with the first few items, my will to keep everything else just fell away. But it's better like this. Easier. In the next few weeks I'll revert to someone not unlike 16 year old me; I'll be throwing some panties in a backpack and hoping for clear skies, unburdened by a two bedroom apartment full of things that I have, for the last few years, let define me.

I think I've finally picked a departure date. November 6th, a week after my 32nd birthday.

And this day is what I want more than anything.


p.s.--You can see why it was so hard for me to get rid of these things. They're beautiful, and even though I'm glad for what it will bring me, I'll be sad to see them go.

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