In 2004 I packed up my apartment and moved back to my dad's house while I went back to school. All my possessions were packed up in boxes and squirreled away in various locations at home or in a storage unit.
At about the same time (although we hadn't met yet), Luke purchased a home with a friend from school. It was an older home so they decided to fix up a few things. Those few things quickly turned into many major things. They basically rebuilt the house from the inside. The renovation finally made the house inhabitable. Luke packed up his things and showed up at his parents' door, cat in hand.
Fast forward to 2007. Luke & I moved into his parents' basement until we were able to afford a house. I moved my stored possessions from my dad's basement to my new in-laws' basement and to a closer and more affordable storage unit.
Today we are still in Luke's parents' basement (paying rent of course). I am working full-time and Luke is completing his degree at the U with full credit loads each semester. Most of my possessions are still in the same boxes I put then into seven years ago. The only space in the house I can truly call my own is our bedroom. We have the use of the entire house, but it's my in-laws' house first and foremost.
It has been four years since Luke & I got married, and we've never had our own home in which to establish our own household away from the observance of others and independent from others' already established routines. Our lives must conform to the lives of others.
In many ways I don't feel like an independently functioning adult right now. In an odd way, I feel that going to work etc is just me playing Grown-Up; when I come home the make-believe ends and I return to the authority/guidance of parents. These feelings only feed the growing sense that I'm going about life all wrong, or worse yet, that I really don't know what I'm doing.
It has been seven years since I had my own place, since I've seen the majority of my possessions, since I've been able to organize, decorate etc the way I want to, since I've not worried about being in someone's way. Now I don't start projects I once enjoyed because I'm too afraid I'll be in the way and encroach on my in-laws' space or disrupt their routines.
I feel like I have put all my hobbies, interests, plans, dreams.... in storage too.....
....and I'm beginning to forget what is in the boxes.
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