Helping my boyfriend move out of his Pittsburgh home felt like a break up. While he relocated over a year ago, he just recently sold his home. To be sure, I questioned what this step might mean for our relationship long term, but I was also upset about saying good bye to his house.
In some ways, even though I own my home, his home had become part mine. Because I own way too many clothes, I had quite a few there. I had gotten dressed for formals there, fallen asleep there and woken up there. Indeed, at least once, when I had a cold, I was nursed back to health there. I had helped pick out some of the accessories. I had re-arranged furniture. Once, when I left in a huff, I damaged a piece of property that was in the garage.
His move taught me a lesson. Even if homes don’t have a soul, they have a personality. They know our history. They are our partners on life’s journey and witnesses to our most intimate moments.
Your home is the keeper of all of your secrets. It is simultaneously a voyeur and a friend. It absorbs your tears when no one else knows you’re crying. It watches you compromise yourself, when your friends believe that you’re strong. It hears you speak unkindly to your loved ones, when the world believes that you’re kind. It hears your prayers, even when you question whether there is a God.
Your home is there when no one else is. It kisses you every morning when you wake up. It embraces you every evening when you return from work. Sometimes it makes you mad—like when it breaks down and requires the money that you had designated for Prada.
I have cried every time that I have moved. Each time it has been agonizing. Leaving my house, the place that was my harbor, my security, my friend, has always felt like a betrayal. It is as if I simply discarded my trusted confidante once I no longer had use for it. Each time I have simultaneously had feelings of excitement and trepidation. I have looked forward to moving to a new city and my new home. However, I have also had questions. Would my new home would be as loving? Would my new home be as comforting? Would my new home be as trustworthy?
Fortunately for me, each home has proven to be as loving, comforting, and trustworthy as the last. Moreover, I have managed to make great memories in every one. I don’t think that makes me disloyal though. It’s like that song that I learned in Girl Scouts, “Make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold…” So, even though I shall probably continue to cry with each move, I will remain excited about the new memories that I shall create. And if you’ve been reading this blog regularly, you know that I will!
Comments