Home Is Where All Your Shit Is

I’ve been wanting to write this post for the last two weeks now, but I’ve been trying to figure out how to even organize my thoughts. Well, my keychain is officially lighter. My home is now with Craig.

The movers came and moved me on March 19. The cleaning crew cleaned my old apartment from top to bottom the following weekend. And just this past Thursday, I officially dropped off my keys and my final check. I was free and clear.

Since then, I’ve begun settling into my new home. Each weekend, I’ve given Craig a “honey-do” list which he has tackled with gusto. From hanging storage racks, to hanging mirrors, and unloading bags of gardening soil. Craig has fully adopted his role as my partner.

And, well, me? Domestic life suits me well, much to my surprise. I make exquisite meals (when I have the time and energy), I take care of Craig when he’s feeling ill, and do wifely chores around the house like declutter the kitchen cupboards, rearrange the furniture, and steam clean the floors. Oh and you won’t believe this, but I’ve actually become really excited about gardening! Craig and I are making plans to begin a garden next year.

I couldn’t have dreamed of a life better than this.

The other night, I was unpacking some boxes of books, one of which contained all of my journals. As I was putting them away, I began to just flip through a few of them, reading some of the entries. There were a few entries written about broken hearts, tears, crying, anger, frustration.

It took a while. but I finally found a man who knew how to love me. And the good thing is I just happened to know how to love him as well.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.