What Now

Friday afternoon, I got a message from my sister telling me that they finally sold the old house. I'm not too proud to tell you that once that sunk in, I sat back at my desk and cried.

Don't get me wrong, I know that being sentimental is a supreme waste of time. I know that there wasn't any good or practical purpose for keeping the house, but it still makes me sad. I mean, the house is just a building, but it stood for so much more than just being a house. It was where I grew up. It was where I had friends over and had the last real birthday parties I'd ever have. It was where I brought my dates to meet my parents and where we ended up on the porch swing after they were over. It was supposed to be the place where my parents grew old together and where I'd take my children to visit (if I ever had them.) It was the last place that my family was whole. It was the the only place left where every inch didn't remind me of something bad. It was my last safe place, and now I can't go back.

I know how stupid that sounds to a couple of you, trust me. I wish I could explain it better, but I don't know how.

I'm not against the sale of the house. I know that you can't hang on to things forever. People and places go out of your life all of the time, and usually you don't get much of a say about when they disappear. I know that lesson better than I wish I did. Intellectually knowing that doesn't make it any easier.

Anyways, sorry for harshing your buzz. I'm just very, very sorry to see the place go.