There it was. The perfect house. And by perfect, I do mean perfect. Not that it didn’t need some work, but it had everything I dream about in a home. Tall, tall, ceilings. Wood floors. A big backyard. Beautiful built ins and fire places original to the home. A big kitchen. An open floor plan. Unique detailing. Crown moldings. A sunroom that could have been used for an office and/or piano. 3 beds and 2 baths. An attic space that could be converted to whatever you want. An incredible street full of historical homes. In budget.
She was like that guy who you’ve met at some point in your life and just knew he, he was the one. You start planning your life together in your mind and then. . .well then, you find out he has a girlfriend, and they’re practically engaged, and well, there goes your chance at happily ever after. You were crushed. You thought that there would never be another guy like him. I mean he was perfect. Sure there are other nice guys out there and cute, but they’ll never be like this guy. And you felt like you suffered a major loss even though you were never even close in the first place. That’s how I felt about this house.
At this point you might think that I need to be medicated or institutionalized, and you’re probably right. But here’s the thing. I LOVE houses. Like really, really love them. When I saw this house, I was like sign me up! I don’t care if there’s running water or electricity or plumbing. I will dig a hole in the back yard. This is the house I want.
But it was pretty much engaged, and now it’s married and off the market and I have to move on. Did I cry a little? You bet your doorknob I did. And there’s a part of me that keeps hoping it will eventually pop up on the market again so we can snatch it up and give it the love it deserves, but the truth is, it probably won’t. It’s too awesome a place for anyone to let go, although it’s previous owners did so I guess there’s a sliver of hope.
But I’m slowly moving on, opening my mind up to the other possibilities around us. Some of them require more imagination and work than my dream did, but I’m getting excited again about the possibility of taking an ugly duckling and turning it into something that someone someday will look at and say. It’s the one! Sign me up! I’ll wrap myself in a blanket, eat beans out of can and poop in a bucket if I have to. Just give me that house.