This is one of my patterns in life:

I move to a new city, I build a life, make friends, fix up my apartment and when everything is fully set up I move away. I did this twice in Cologne, once in Washington D.C. and in New York, once in Miami, also a couple of times in Madrid and countless more within Barcelona.

I always figured it makes sense that I've moved so much as I'm continuing a moving streak from my early childhood when my mom and I moved  once a year on averageto stay with family, friends, my grandparents and eventually with her new husband. After this last move she stayed put and I was sent off to embark on a new moving streak on my own. 

It's like somehow I'm running away from finding out how things would turn out.  It seemed easier to not get to find out whether I could get a raise, if my boyfriend would stay true or if my friends would show when I needed them. It was easier to have the excuse of having just arrived than to face up to being alone on my birthday or not being in the right job or relationship.  

I'm feeling anxious now that I'm almost done decorating the apartment I bought almost five years ago. I feel afraid that my pattern of abandoning the site of my life will continue despite my not being an aware and active part of continuing on this path.

I'm working on enjoying my space as I'm in it. I'm working on breaking the pattern by recognizing and writing about this fear. My wish is to stay. But I don't wish to become overattached to a place. What a difficult balance. It's not a lesson to be learned on a given day. It's a lesson I hope to learn as things come my way.