Moving Back

Today, we finally moved back to our old house, which we'd given the mother of all renovations. Finally, after 7 months in a cramped apartment across the road, it was good to be home.

I don't feel any sadness for the room in which I spent the last 12 years of my life - not only because my new one is bigger - but also because we did not move away. I'm now certain that nostalgia depends not only on time's gradual passing, but also on the sudden reality of a translocation, and I'm full of shit.