We’re in the depths of moving here at my house. I’m scrambling to comb through every nook and cranny. I’m a whirlwind of sorting: purging left and right. “Sell this, donate that, throw this out.” And on the craziness continues.

The move doesn’t seem real yet, even with all the drastic downsizing. I don’t think it’s really hit me yet that I’m leaving the house I call home. I’m packing up our belonging and with them our memories. This is the house that taught me so much. This is the house that witnessed our successes and our failures. The walls bare witness to our laughs and our tears. This is the house where I became a wife. This is the house I brought my first child back to. This is the house I call my home, and goodbyes are just not my thing. So, until I ninja across your squeaky floors one last time, I’ll just pretend you’re mine forever.