If walls could talk...

I was doing really good for the "blog everyday in May" challenge until just recently.  Then I just slammed the breaks.  There are some pretty good reasons for that, and this has been a really stressful past two weeks, but since I am not here to give you excuses, I am not going to share those reasons with you.  At least not now.  I'm sorry, I have never been a fan of  vague blog posts, but now that I am writing one I understand why they are done.  Just know that all is well and I am A-Okay.

I will share with you one of the reasons (although a small one, it still adds to the pile).  We are moving!  This is actually really good news.  Right now we live in a tiny little apartment I moved into 6 years ago (wow I am really surprised I stayed in one spot that long!).  It's cute and cozy for one.... way too small for two.  We never actually planned on living here after we got married, but then again we didn't really do the whole wedding thing according to plan.

We just started packing a few boxes this weekend.  Although I often complain about these living quarters,  packing things away have turned me into an sentimental bag of emotions and I realize I am really going to miss this place.  Ironically, today's writing prompt is "What do you miss?".  I may be breaking the rules by telling you I will miss this place, but rules are meant for breaking anyway.

We pack the important things first.

I have done a lot of growing up in this apartment. This place put an end to my couch surfing days. So may choices have been made here, so many tears have been cried here, and countless bad dance parties have taken place in the hallway we call a kitchen.  My first night here I slept on an air mattress.  I realized that I was in love with Dean in this living room.  He came to my house to say goodbye after spending the summer in Rochester before living in Malta for a year.  I watched him walk to his car through the huge living room window and I broke down and cried.  When I finally figured out why it hurt so much, he was already gone.  He asked me to marry him two years later.

Dean and I had our first kiss in this kitchen.  We put up our first Christmas tree in this living room, he nursed me back to health in the same bedroom I wrote my first blog post in.  I made life altering choices while showering in this bathroom.  It is  bitter sweet to be leaving.  If walls could talk, I would love to hear them tell the story of one lonely, lost, hurting girl and how she became who she is today.