The one way ticket to Paris on my desk is making me ever so anxious and ever so excited.
My house in Milford sold officially this past Friday. It wasn’t a surprise; I was there when the “For Sale” went up and the picture frames came down. Nevertheless, when I was told that it really wasn’t ours anymore, my heart felt really heavy and a lump built in the back of my throat.
3 Quirk Circle is where my family once ate together around the dinner table. It’s where I lied awake waiting for the tooth fairy to sneak under my pillow. It’s where I pounded on the bathroom door, wailing that I needed to brush my teeth before the bus came. It’s where we played Nintendo so loudly that business calls were interrupted on the next story. It’s where we pounced on dad, back from his business trips to Asia. It’s where I screamed and danced around when I found out that I got a callback for the Sound of Music. It’s where we cried and cried and hugged and cried when Shadow got hit by a car. It’s where my mom made chocolate chip cookies and set aside the mixing spoon just for me. It’s where we played manhunt like people were legitimately going to die. It’s where I stayed up until 3 am typing vigorously to my first crush and best friends. It’s where I hauled my dirty motocross gear, French horn, book bag, and heavy heavy dreams up the stairs. It’s where we lived, really lived, and I’m going to miss it.