My house is not my house without me in it.
As I put pictures, decor, books, and personal effects in boxes, the me-ness of the place fades away and ugly blank walls stare back at me.
I’m not sad to leave, although I love the neighborhood and have some great memories here: hosting Friendsgiving Dinner with AshCap, laughing hysterically with Sarah over Idiot Abroad, Valentine’s parties, Wine and Cheese night, birthdays and late night heart to hearts, sledding and St.Patrick’s Day with the best, craziest neighbors three houses down..it’s been wonderful, mostly.
The good times spent with people I love are what bring the warm fuzzies, not the actual house, and I’m happy to know that, because I have some amazing people in my life and many more meaningful memories to create.
Now, where did I put that packing tape?