July 22, 2010

Dear John Letter

Dear Home,

I want to thank you for a wonderful six years. I have truly loved living with you and I am not sure I shall find something that suits me quite as well anywhere else in the world. I will remember you with fondness and miss you very much.

When I first stepped across your threshold six years ago, it’s true you had seen better days, but I could see you had potential. The lack of light fixtures didn’t faze me, nor the mysteriously missing bathroom sink. Even the stained floors and badly painted moldings couldn’t hide the wonderful potential I saw in you. Even on a cloudy day, you glowed with a wonderful west light that has never failed to brighten my outlook. I loved your age and you majestic view and knew that together you and I could make a home.

I was a little apprehensive, of course. New relationships can be scary and I’d never been in an urban apartment before. It turned out I had little to fear. You taught me just how wonderful urban living can be and I shall be forever grateful for that. I’m actually in better shape now and more in touch with nature here in the heart of the city, thanks to the long walks and bicycle rides you encouraged me to make every day.

I have many wonderful memories of lazy evenings watching the sun set behind the Capitol building and the dark silhouettes of the mighty oak trees. You always gave me the best views of approaching thunderstorms. We had some good parties and dinners. You were good to my friends and always respectful of the neighbors, never being loud or disruptive. I only wish I could have spent more time with you these last two years, but you know my work kept me at the college far too often. Yet you were always here waiting patiently for me, with a soft bed and a warm drink.

Not only have you been great for me, but you’ve been good to my cat as well. She loves the undivided attention and freedom to roam in her own exclusive territory. You’ve always given her the light and views of small, fluttering animals she craves. And you never complained when she added a new stain to your long-suffering carpet.

I only wish I could take you with me, but California is not for you. They have earthquakes there and brick buildings don't hold up so well. You’re much better off here. And how could I ever separate you from your beloved city and all the things you’re close to, not to mention that beautiful view of the State Capitol?

But my life has changed. We knew this day would come. I have changed and it’s time to move on. There are new and exciting things waiting for me in California and I can’t give that up, not even for you. You were there for me when I needed you the most and I shall always cherish the comfort and shelter you gave me. Now it’s time for you to share that wonderful sense of security with someone else.

I know right now you’re feeling empty, but don’t worry. Very soon you’ll have someone new. They’ll fill you with furniture and books and laughter. Maybe you’ll finally get those new windows or that refinished floor you’ve always wanted. I know they’ll take good care of you and love you just as much as I have.

I’d like to say I’ll come and visit you, but I just don’t think that will be possible. I’ll move out, someone new will move in, and we’ll all move on. That’s the way it should be. But I want you to know I love you and I’ll miss you. Thanks for all your unwavering support these last six years.

Your Loving Resident,


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