When we were house hunting, we didn’t know what we wanted – we were just excited to finally be together.
I remember when we went to view this house. The lawn was unkempt, the whole house wreaked, there were marker drawings all over the walls and carpets, and it was over budget.
But for some reason, we were drawn to it. The house was close to my work, not too big and not too small, it overlooked a lake, and the owners loved us.
It was meant to be.
This house held so many memories – good and bad – and when I closed the door, handed over the keys, and left it for the last time, it was overwhelming.
This is where we would begin our life together – but it’s also where our love ended.
This is where we set up our first Christmas tree, wrapped garland around the banisters, cooked countless chicken dinners (because that’s all I can seem to cook), watched our favorite TV shows.
This house is where we brought a kitten home, where I sat out on the porch and “tanned,” where friends visited and stayed with us and marveled at how “in love” we seemed.
Laughter and love filled this house to the brim. But this is also where we fought, and cried, and yelled, and wondered how in the world we ever thought this could work out. This is where I was at my lowest, but it’s also where I was at my highest.
I was in love in this house, but I also lost that love in this house.
We made plans for our future in this house, talked about kids’ names, jobs we’d love to have, where we’d want to live, how our wedding would be.
And at the end, we cried and said our very last goodbye in this house.
I learned so much about love, partners, life, and myself living in this house, that I can’t help but be thankful.
This house was many things in the short year I lived in it. But one thing it will never stop being is a lesson, a stepping stone, something to remember but never to relive.