You may have noticed that I have taken a bit of a respite from writing over the past several months.
I just went through and emotional time: I just endured a heartbreaking breakup. It was painful and a long slow process.
I broke up with my house.
Perhaps you are surprised. I can understand. Many of my posts proved that I was very much in love with that brick and mortar. Having been through a 65% gut renovation, I felt as if I knew every nail in that house; I painstakingly chose every paint color, every stitch of fabric, every appointment, every piece of furniture.
I am uncertain whether or not houses are gender specific, as ships or cars, but I am going to assume it is the case.
She was my labor of love.
I spent hours primping her. I painted, buffed, polished. I spent hours weeding her grounds and broke every nail ripping up the invasive bittersweet vines that threatened to devour her exterior beauty.
Making all her windows sparkle took 40 hours alone. I know. I did it three times during the two years she was interview by potential suitors. One time I landed myself in the ER where I needed four stitches from making those windows gleam. I did it for her.
As time ticked on, she proved that she was indisputably needy Come to think of it, to say she was needy is the world’s greatest understatement. She was the epitome of high maintenance in every possible way. I was incessantly boosting her up, overhauling her, mending her and tending to her every demand.
At two hundred six years old she was elderly. She was home to many over those years. She was rich in history but frail, despite all her repairs. She required constant care.Given her antiquity, she was full of life and experience.
But, oh! If her walls could speak!
Leaving her was not due to a lack of love. I just could no longer give her my 100%. I was depleted, exhausted and torn. I gave her everything I had. There were too many withdrawals and not nearly enough deposits.
It was time to part ways.
My Michael was the one who suggested the breakup. He pointed out how she was draining me and that we needed to rip off the band aid and move on. I resisted and argued, kicking and screaming. I was defensive and protective. I’ll admit I shed tears.
Michael scratched his head over those tears. He reminded me that she was a house, after all. I could not have disagreed more.
And how could I abandon my love?
The breakup took almost two years. It was on again and off again. We put her on the market and took her off. Each time I buffed and polished and made her sparkle. It was exhausting. It was grueling, emotional and a struggle. All the while, I felt I was betraying her.
The hardest part was finding her a new love; A new steward. It was going to take the right family; One which would love and care for her as I had. There were showings upon showings. The process was reminiscent of the many MATCH.COM dates that I had to endure before I met My Michael.
It was a great run and our fondness was mutual. Except when a pipe burst or the heating system refused to do its job. Then, I was less in love. But we got through the rocky times.
Two months ago, I passed the baton. Her new suitors took over and we said goodbye. It was heartbreaking. It was a relief.
I am newly in like with one much younger. Call it robbing the cradle, but my new relationship is with a two-year-old home. She is very vanilla but I am in the process of giving her a makeover and appointing her so that she has just as much charm and character as my former love. We are taking it slowly but in time I am confident that my new gal will be unique and special, too.
I will share the journey with you.
But, in the honor of my past love, I will regard her by continuing to share how I brought her to her happy beautiful place. I will reminisce by sharing more posts on the transformation of my antique, my former love.
Cousin Laura visited me recently after I moved. I asked her what she thought of my new home. She replied that it was very nice but it needed to be MARY-IZED.
I am excited to do just that and to share every step of the way with you.
Sparkle on, Friends