By the time I post this, I will no longer be a resident at The House with the Yellow Door.
I moved here two and a half years ago, when spring was just beginning to wake up in 2013. I was in Cambodia when the move took place, so I left the country with my room packed up in boxes and came back to them scattered around this house.
It’s been a wild ride ever since.
Out of the original 6 of us that moved in, only Chris, Holli and I remain (…until tomorrow, when I move out.) The others are now in Washington, Arizona, South Carolina. I’m not going to another state – I’m only going 5 minutes down the road. But it still feels like everything is about to change.
I don’t know how to wrap words around the last 2.5 years. This is the longest I’ve lived anywhere since I moved out of my parents house at 18. I truly thought the next time I moved would be when I got married.
I was wrong.
The decision to move out was made in April. There were a lot of factors that played into it. My roommates and I sat in the living room and discussed all the moving pieces. It was tense. I wept.
I also knew it was from God.
After the decision was made, I put on my tennis shoes and went for a run. I wanted to exhaust my body to match my emotions.
I came back and wrote in my diary, “Tonight, my heart is broken. Again. How many times can a heart be broken? One day I’ll count and let you know.”
Life continues to perplex me. And amaze me. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t a feeler because I can hardly handle all the feelings, all the time. Fear, hope, grief, joy… they drive me crazy.
It’s my last night in this house and I’m flooded with memories…
Sleeping in Hannah’s room the first week I lived here because my bed wasn’t set up yet. Sitting on the kitchen floor with Greg and Bethany because we didn’t have a kitchen table yet. Showing up from a debrief in Guatemala empty-handed because my suitcase had been stolen – Holli immediately went downstairs to grab a Target gift card for me. “I’ve been saving this for a rainy day,” she told me. It had $60 on it.
Watching Chris cook in his Starbucks apron. Sitting on my bed, listening to Renee talk about Jeff and how she was falling for him. Opening my Christmas present from Miles. Cheering when Chris and Holli told us they were pregnant. Seeing Aisli in her highchair every Saturday and Sunday morning when I open my bedroom door. Breaking bread together on Sundays (aka pancakes.) Watching movies on snow days. Dressing up for the Hunger Games.
The list, of course, could go on and on. There has been laughter and tears and oh-so many meals shared together under this roof. So many of the moments I cherish are those after-work, in-between, everyday, almost mundane moments that make up such a big chunk of life.
Tomorrow I leave The House with the Yellow Door and all those in-between moments. It’s time for something new.
I feel similarly to the way I felt before I moved to Gainesville – kind of like oh SHOOT what is about to happen!?!?!?!? That feeling you get right before you jump off a cliff or waterfall into deep water. Your breath catches in your chest. You want to freeze, but you know you have to jump. There’s no turning back.
It’s time to risk again.