Moving On

Most of the country is, of course, preoccupied with election returns, but I’m far too distracted to pay any sort of attention. I got a call on Friday from my realtor. We had made an offer on a house literally weeks ago. I mentally moved in and completely redecorated the place, but since the seller seemed intent on playing some sort of sick cat-and-mouse game, pitting us against another bidder, I wrote the place off, mentally packed up my imaginary boxes, and proceeded to torture myself by pretending to live in at least two other houses I’ve seen since then.

But about this call on Friday: Evidently the other buyer on that long-ago house also got tired of the seller’s gamesmanship and pulled out of negotiations. Suddenly we could have it—at our original price—if we still wanted it.

That was Friday. I had both an inspector and a contractor at the place on Saturday morning—and accomplishing that small miracle of scheduling serves, I feel, as an affirming omen about my future at this place. Furthermore, these professionals didn’t find anything catastrophic, only the problems which my realtor and I had already spotted on our previous visits. Those problems are too many to list, but none of them appear to be beyond the repair budget that we had figured into the deal. Long story short? We close a week from Thursday. I’ll be moving in as soon as the place is minimally habitable—probably soon after Thanksgiving.

This is a bittersweet development and stage of life. After 25 years, my husband and I will be living apart. I don’t wish him ill, but I can’t continue in the circumstances that I’ve been enduring for too many years. Ironically, the only hope that things will ever change is if I move out and force him to decide if we are to pull together or pull apart. Otherwise, it will just be the status quo until death us to part, and I just can’t face that possibility.

I am, however, terribly excited about the new possibilities of this place, be they temporary or permanent. Unfortunately, I’m unable to share that excitement around any of my family at the risk of hurting someone important. But I’ll tell you all here. I am. Excited. I hope some of you can be excited for me.