I will miss so many things.
But not the cockroaches.
Leo and I are moving next week, leaving the first place we called home together. We’ve rented this small house for more than two and a half years and it many ways it feels like home. Here, we realized that yes, we were truly right for each other. Here, Leo hid a ring from me for a month, waiting for the right time to propose. Here, he got dressed in his tuxedo on our wedding day.
Here, I walk 10 minutes to downtown, doing work at the courthouse, out of coffee shops and out of two offices I use. Here, he and I stroll the downtown streets in the evening, meet friends for dinner and drinks and never worry about who will drive or where to park. Here, we’re part of a community of downtowners, with whom we socialize, network and discuss Raleigh’s latest civic issues. Downtown is our “third place,” our home when we’re not at home.
I wish we could stay. I try to look at the good things about leaving. We leave behind cockroaches, who have survived chemical warfare for the past year despite my strongest and most strategic efforts. We leave behind an irritating neighbor. We will gain more space, upgrading from 860 square feet to more than 1,100. Our new apartment is right next to a greenway entrance, which means a new place to stroll and an easy place for my morning jogs.
We leave with a purpose: our new apartment is cheaper. With the extra rent money we save, we will reach our goal of a 20 percent house down payment around this time next year.
So we leave our first home with dreams of our future home.
A worthy sacrifice, I’d say.
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