Box after box

I keep track of my movings, and, incidentally, of my life events in the most serious way. I can link any past experience, whether related to work, travels or people met along the way, for instance, by simply figuring out first which house and which place I was living in back then. I struggle with numbers, and dates, so my chronology is always somehow a matter of before and after a certain place. So a few years back, before I moved in a two bed-roomed apartment with some friends in East London, and after I moved out from a room in a little attic in a shared house, I fond myself asking my ex girlfriend to take a place together. It was the first time. In my mind, i believe it was meant to be a grand romantic gesture of some sort. Walking in a park covered by tulips, she said yes and it was settled. She and I, are going to rent a studio flat in South London. Now obviously, I did all this while in the process of leaving the job I had (another story on its own), and waiting to start a new one in the area where I was gonna move. if some detail are blurred, is mostly because some drugs don't really help your memory. but back then, there was only thing I did more than smoking or drinking. Gambling. Roulette, Black jack. One day I sat for ten hours straight at the same table. To be completely honest, i could do all those things at the same time with minimum problems. Which now I'm not sure any each of them had a positive impact on the others. But when you're all set on getting your act straight, decisions come and go. and god knows my will goes toe to toe with my mood. So one day I went to the bank and decided to lock most of my money in some bond accounts. kept it safe from the green table, I admit i felt quite proud of myself that morning. I knew I was gonna start a new job in a bit. I knew I wasn't gonna gamble again.

but i kept smoking. There is only a certain amount you can give up. By the time I was out of my previous flat, and signed all the papers for the new place, the very same morning I get the news I 'm not going to get the new job. if anything, I didn't get fired, as i wasn't technically hired, yet, though after a few weeks or probation i felt pretty positive. so i didn't take it well. now i had no job, and no money available in one hand, and in the other a contract for a new place and a new life with my girl, - our fresh start after we had previously broken up a few months earlier. the main thin is, I suppose i wanted to prove I could be better. A better boyfriend, a better man. The reality, was another major hiccup between me and the version of myself I was striving to be. She was working hard at that time ,long shifts waitressing at a nearby restaurant. She, was the one that had to put down most of the deposit and rent money. A few days later, I found another job nearby and I began to pay up my debt. Though I could see the love behind it only afterwards, in that moment all I experienced was shame and a slight sense of confusion. almost surprise. That was the first time I realized clearly that my life, despite my best effort, was out of control. Or at least, it didn't look like it was going in the direction I wanted to be. Since then, I swore I'd never let myself get into that kind of situation ever again. Since then, I kept some few promises, and made some new ones. Meanwhile, I keep on tracking my life, place after place. box after box.

As if you could understand the direction you're going only by remembering where you're coming from.

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