Moving Out

Finally, I’m moving out to a new flat with my husband. It all came too suddenly. One room was vacant in my friend’s/colleague’s flat and she just innocently asked if I knew a couple who is looking for a room to rent and I quickly volunteered myself. And she gave it to me at a discounted price. Considering how much a room costs here in UAE, the price she gave us was reasonable enough. Everything is falling into place. J found a car lift from Abu Dhabi to Yas Island where he works. And I found us a room. I mean, a room found us, technically.

Staying in G’s flat whenever my husband is off from work is no longer an option. We need a place of our own. When I’m with my husband, it’s so hard to part with him. But when I’m in my flat, it’s so hard for me to think that I have to give up the comfort that I have. I’ve grown to love my own little corner, my roommates who are dear to me, the late night chat, jogging, the beach, my surroundings. But I’m married now and I have to live with my husband. Why is it so hard to be married?

When I was packing all my things, I wasn’t thinking that I’m finally leaving. My mind was preoccupied with the thought of how I can move all of my things on my own. J is at work and he won’t be home until 7pm. H was watching me pack my things and said she feels sad. I also feel sad to leave them. They’re like my sisters. But I have to go. H was kind enough to help me move out. Then J came just in time to take my remaining stuff to our new flat. The couple who owns the flat even helped us load our things in the taxi. I feel like I just left my family.

The room’s still a mess. I have to go back to clean and organize my stuff. For the meantime, we’re staying in G’s flat until we’re settled. The good thing is, G’s flat is just walking distance from our new flat so I think I’m still closer to home.

The things I have to sacrifice for a married life. What else is there?




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