Transition and Nostalgia

This post has been in my head for weeks now, maybe months. Every time I sit at my computer I think about writing it, and then I don't. Until today that is. I haven't written it yet mostly because I am a little superstitious, and I didn't want to say anything until I was absolutely sure. Until all the details were hammered out, the contracts signed, and the keys ours. But I also haven't written it because, well, this is hard. But today, I think, is a day for hard things.

Big changes are afoot in the Merel household. And yes, we have a household, because yesterday morning, we bought a house. That one up there, in the suburbs of New York City.

After many months of looking, and more months of negotiating, yesterday morning we sat in a room full of people, handed over some big checks, and signed our name to many, many documents. Two hours later we emerged, homeowners.

So right now? Right now I am swirling with emotion. Excitement, to be sure. Some fear, some nerves. But more than I am any of these things, I am nostalgic, and a little bit sad. Because In five short weeks our lives will be packed into boxes, and we will move north. And I know that we have been incredibly lucky to be able to buy this house, and make our mark on it. And I know that in a short time, the house will feel like home. But right now, this is my home. This city. This apartment. This is mine.

This is where I lived, and learned, and lost for seven years. Where I loved, and laughed and cried. Where I soared and where I stumbled. Where I became the person I am. A person I like. A person I am proud of. The person I think I was meant to be. This is where I forged my forever friendships. Where D and I began our life together. All these things happened on these city streets. These streets that have become mine. I will still work here, of course, but I won't live here. This city won't be my home anymore.

I arrived in Manhattan a newly minted college graduate, young and just a little scared. But I am leaving forever changed. Stronger, wiser perhaps, happier.

In a few weeks we are moving on. And I know that we are moving towards something grand. Towards the next phase of our lives, towards a home that we will love, and nurture, and build together. But we are also moving away from something real. Away from the city that built us and made us, and brought us to each other. Away from the city where we started our adult lives, first separate and then together.

I know, without a doubt, that this is a good move. That we are moving in the right direction. That behind this nostalgia there is happiness and excitement ready to break free. In a few weeks one phase of my life comes to an end, melting softly into a beautiful beginning. And I am ready. But before moving day comes, I am happy to have a little more time here, in my city. In my home.