Yesterday I moved out of Leicester for good.
It was a surreal day – one that I thought would take forever to come around, but it was over so quickly. Too quickly.
I can remember getting out of the car in Beaumont Hall in Oadby on my very first day. September 2014. I went into the dining hall to get my induction pack, filled with new-found excitement after months of fearful anticipation. They laughed at me being all organised with my folder. I walked into an empty Block Four to find my room where I’d begin the adventure.
Three years later and I’m leaving somewhere that as grown to become ‘home.’
This room here, my third year room, was decorated with posters and fairy lights and photographs and artwork and it was mine. It was my refuge away from the crazy of the world.
This room has seen me sitting on the floor through the early hours of the morning trying to finish essays, seen people test me for exams, seen me creating all of my art and thinking up my projects, and seen me planning all of my Law Society ideas.
Now an empty space, looking stripped of all the memories, ready for the next lucky occupant.
I can’t write another sentence without saying some cliche rubbish about how I’ll never forget this place and I’ll always have fond memories of it.
That’s all true to an extent, but what I feel can’t be put into words right now. Maybe I’ll be able to, in time.
So here are some facts instead:
I cried when I left. I felt so much. I felt every day I’d been in my third year house, and every day I’d been in Leicester since first year, all at once.
I adore Leicester. I’ve found so many happy places here. I’ve found happiness within myself.
This definitely isn’t goodbye.