Truth is, even though I have been in Albuquerque for NINE YEARS, THREE MONTHS, AND THIRTEEN DAYS, I never completely unpacked.
I had always hoped the move to New Mexico was temporary, that some magical event would sweep me away from this place and I would find the life I was searching for in a better place, a more hospitable climate, a smaller, safer city.
Well, after nine years, three months, and thirteen days, I'm still here. So I decided to start unpacking.
I tore boxes open. I threw paper everywhere. I unwrapped things I hadn't seen in years. It felt and looked like Christmas morning.
Maybe it's because I photographed my closets so the whole world could see the state of suspension I voluntarily live in. Maybe it was the spirits that descended, softly, (like the snowflakes I miss so much), and told me they KNOW what I want. Maybe it was the wine.
Why did I finally unpack?
Because, here in New Mexico, when I water, it rains.
Naturally I thought that maybe, just maybe, if I unpack....I'll move away.
Am I crazy? Like a fox.