The Unpackening is complete.

Two weeks to the day after I got the keys to the house, I have unpacked the last box that I'm going to unpack anytime soon. The remaining boxes are camping gear, circumflatulation supplies, sex machines that didn't work for me, or seldom-used household items. These boxes are all chilling in the loft with me right now, mostly hidden from view from below by the Pride and Trans Pride flags I have hanging from the railing.

One of the last boxes I believe came from my grandmother. She seems to have saved every letter that my father ever wrote to her, and Dad loved to write letters. There were even a few letters from my uncle, my cousin, and me. I feel like a criminal for doing it, but I recycled the letters after reading a few of them. I'm the only person with any interest in them at all, and I don't have much. We are, after all, talking about the man who proposed torturing me into being cisgender.

So what's next? Furniture. I have a bed and a sofa that are supposed to come on Sunday. Also, getting rid of the cardboard boxes that I just emptied and the trash – mainly clothing that isn't fit for donation – that I've accumulated over the last few days of unpacking. I figure the next transfer station run(s) should wait until after I'm done with the furniture.

But! I feel as if I've turned the corner on the move.