so we pull up and there's another family inside and i immediately felt like i knew i would: what are these people doing in my damn house? get them out! and i suppose that's natural. but not okay. it's not my house anymore. so i smiled at them, thinking otherwise, but i smiled. so we go inside. minor changes, some paint, some wood floors instead of carpet. nothing big. it still felt like home. this was the hardest part.
i was there standing in my kitchen, looking out on the backyard and not just seeing our trees but seeing our family over for a bar bq, my mom cooking dinner, late night parties on our back porch... and all of the sudden i found myself feeling completely at home again, in a place that is no longer my home. and while parts of it looked different, it felt the exact same. it felt like home.
an hour later we found out there was a bid. now my dad and i had just gone to check it out--i knew my parents were interested but we didn't think we'd have to act that fast. well, my dad put in a bid that day (without my mom even seeing it). we got a call the next day to go higher. they went higher.
all day i called my parents wondering if we got the place. i mean, i met the woman who lives there and she remembered my parents. she specifically told us: i remember you saying that if we ever move to let you know but i had no way to get in contact with you. and for some weird reason i trusted this lady. i felt like she'd give us the last bid. to everyone else, afterall, this house is just a building. one of many in naperville. just a place to live. to us, it's home. she had to understand that.
my dad called me a few hours later--"this isn't a phone call i wanted to make." and i found myself incredibly disappointed. i guess i built up my expectations a little too much. i mean, i did. i really thought we were going to get that house. i thought that any somewhat good person would be willing to help us out in getting it. i thought we were going home. and so, now having felt this way, having walked in my old room, up my old stairs, sat in the kitchen... i was suddenly really homesick again and when we didn't get the house i was devastated.
you know when you have those pictures in your head of a place because you remember exactly how you were feeling? i think for the rest of my life i will remember sitting in colleens driveway waiting for the news, pulling grass anxiously and the distinct disappointment i felt when i heard what happened.
it just doesn't seem fair that someone gets it who would be equally as happy in another house. it just doesn't seem right that someone actually beat us at getting our old house. i'm having a hard time justifying it.
and you know the more i think about it, i'm sad, yeah. but i'm not just sad about that house. i mean, it's an average house. it's a nice place to live, nice neighborhood. but an a average house. it's not the house. it's the feeling i miss. i miss being home. i miss looking out the window and seeing something that reminds me of old times. i miss waving to our neighbors as i pull out of the driveway. i miss the comfort we had on that little cul-de-sac. and i guess for a second, i just thought we might be able to get that back.
ok wait i just wrote this whole post and now im sitting here in bed and im thinking about the perfect analogy. okay, you know when you like a guy (or a girl, whatever) and you are just starting to get over them--because you're making yourself. because it just didn't work out. and then just when you are about to get over them, they call you? that's how i feel about my house. sort of.