Making Space

The urge to prepare for the next chapter

These days I’ve been sorting my stuff, giving away clothes, trying to clean things up. Make space, get rid of things that are long overdue to be thrown out. It’s not that I am preparing for a move - I am preparing for someone to move in with me in my apartment, the one I’ve had so many struggles with.

I remember the viewing right before Christmas 2017: the apartment was filled with the belongings of the previous inhabitants who still lived there. It was hard to really get a feel for the flat as there were so many things - furniture, clothes, decoration. A couple of days later, we got confirmation from the landlord that we had gotten the apartment.

We = my partner at that time.

I was a bit hesitant as it wasn’t my preferred place and yet it was the cheapest option, and already back then it was hard to find a new place to live in Berlin. So we signed the contract and mid-January we started painting the walls, got a new kitchen, and eventually moved in by the end of January.

I felt strange in that new place. I got sick. We went on holidays and slowly I adapted to this new living situation. Back then, I was studying full-time and working part-time, so my week was usually packed, and on the weekends I would go to the library and study.

My partner at that time was mainly at home, and I usually came back late in the evenings. We split up. He met someone new while partying and during the few conversations we had after the break-up, he mentioned that he would have loved to keep the apartment - but it was my decision, since he had caused the situation.

I gave myself three weeks to feel into that new reality he presented to me. My first impulse was to move out, but somehow I felt like staying and handling my own life in this place that clearly had my handwriting: I chose most of the furniture, the walls were painted the way I wanted them to be, and as a student it was hard to find something affordable that felt similarly “good.”

I stayed - and then I left. I came back and left again. And then I left for seven months, then for a year, then again. And every time I sublet the apartment, only to eventually come back to it.

Because after all, this was home.

Now I feel the need to prepare for my partner’s move. I don’t want to make the same mistakes again. I don’t want to reproduce what happened before. Even though deep down I know that won’t happen - because I am not the same person I was eight years ago.

So here I am on a random Tuesday evening: defrosting my fridge and cleaning things that are already pretty clean. Just to feel that I did something. That I’ve prepared for this new-ish chapter.

Maybe that’s what moving in together really is - not just sharing space, but making peace with the one you already built.