June is all about waiting.
Waiting to find the right house, the right job, even the right pillows. The cat is finally out of the bag, all of our family, friends, and coworkers know we're leaving and but it still feels so surreal. Even as I schedule appointments with realtors to see possible homes, it still doesn't quite sink in that in a month I won't be living in Miami anymore. It's bittersweet, of course. I've lived in the same house for over 12 years and all I've ever known since age six (my family immigrated from Cuba when I was six) is Miami. I know I'll miss my family and friends, but I constantly wonder about all the other little things I'll miss that haven't crossed my mind. July will be a month of missing. Or maybe it'll be August, when the shine from all the new things wears off and life starts to pick up momentum. But for now, I'm waiting. And it sucks. I feel drained, physically and emotionally. I know these feelings are transient although, so far, I haven't been able to treat them as such.
For now, I'll just focus on arting!