Saying good-bye to an old friend
I remember the first time I walked in...that amazing view captured me immediately and I knew I had to live there. Convincing my parents that this was the right place to invest their money took a little longer (not much longer), and then it was mine. As I sat in my lawn chair amongst the 10 or 15 boxes in the living room the night before the movers came*, I stared out at the darkness and the twinkling lights, and knew I was home.
My condo was my refuge through four rounds of finals, three roommates, one graduation, uncounted number of boyfriends, two weddings, and 18-1/2 years of my life. I drank my first martini in that condo. I said, "I love you," and meant it for the first time in that condo. I nearly declared bankruptsy there. I had a hysterical pregnancy there, too. (Never told anyone except my ex-husband about that.) Most importantly, I think, I gave up the childish ways of my youth and became a woman there.
All those years of sheltering between its solid walls and breathing in the sweet ocean breezes are over now and, with any luck at all, new tenants will be moving in to my condo next Tuesday, and that makes me slightly sad. While I love my new place, it just doesn't feel like Home yet. Part of that is that TCB's not home, part of it is that I'm still reeling from tossing so much of my past in the trash as part of the move, and still another part is that everything's so sterile and new.
I look at my condo now - fresh and beautiful again with new flooring and paint and light switches and outlets and bathroom fixtures! - and remember so clearly how it was when I walked in there all those years ago. I hope that whoever moves in next week will love it as much as I did and that it will bring them much happiness, too.
My condo was my refuge through four rounds of finals, three roommates, one graduation, uncounted number of boyfriends, two weddings, and 18-1/2 years of my life. I drank my first martini in that condo. I said, "I love you," and meant it for the first time in that condo. I nearly declared bankruptsy there. I had a hysterical pregnancy there, too. (Never told anyone except my ex-husband about that.) Most importantly, I think, I gave up the childish ways of my youth and became a woman there.
All those years of sheltering between its solid walls and breathing in the sweet ocean breezes are over now and, with any luck at all, new tenants will be moving in to my condo next Tuesday, and that makes me slightly sad. While I love my new place, it just doesn't feel like Home yet. Part of that is that TCB's not home, part of it is that I'm still reeling from tossing so much of my past in the trash as part of the move, and still another part is that everything's so sterile and new.
I look at my condo now - fresh and beautiful again with new flooring and paint and light switches and outlets and bathroom fixtures! - and remember so clearly how it was when I walked in there all those years ago. I hope that whoever moves in next week will love it as much as I did and that it will bring them much happiness, too.
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