It's weird to say, but even weirder to feel.
The last day at my old house was painful and full of a profound sadness that I knew had been waiting in the dark shadows of my mind.
I was blindsided by how empty the house looked as the movers took everything out of my house, piece by piece I watched it all leave the house....
easily remembering the days that all of it came in the house.
I was alone.
In our house.
I was alone.
Again.
And then, out of no where I wasn't.
My neighbours who have now become more like family, were there beside me.... just like they always had been.
My last memory of the house on Farmhouse Road will always be of them.
Standing in the garage hugging so tight that I didn't want to let go.
My first memory of my new house will always be of my dad, standing on my driveway waiting for me.
It already felt like home.
Seeing him standing out there felt so familiar, mostly because I never came home on time as a teenager so when he was really pissed he would stand outside on the driveway and wait for me....
The weekend flew by and by the time Sunday came my best girl and I were comfortably living in our new house.
It's more real now for me than ever before.
That I am alright now.
I slept better my first night here then I had slept in years, and when I woke up.... I instantly knew I was home.
We love it here.
This was the best thing we could have done..... It has already started to change things for us.
I feel it slowly but surely, a new normal.. that I adore.
