To the Little House on Sequoia Street,

I’m writing you a letter because as of today, you are no longer some place I will go back to, or call home. And just typing that sentence already has tears coming out of my eyes. I am going to miss you. A lot of life has happened under your roof in the last almost five years. And I’m equal parts happy and heart broken about leaving. I’m attached to every 863 square foot of you. You’re tiny and you have little to no storage space, but I think tiny is really just another word for cozy in your case.

You are where so many big parts of my life started. Where I got to move out on my own and learn to support myself. You are where I got to live with my best friend for 3 years, a literal dream come true. You are where I had some of my worst nights mentally, and some of the best..nights. ever. You are where I slowly fell in love with my husband and kissed him for the first time while watching Armageddon on the couch. You’re where I decided I never wanted to experience another hangover again. You are where I’ve laughed with friends and family. Where I’ve curled up on the couch again and again to watch countless hours of football and Gilmore Girls. You are where I have built a life that is so full of happiness and joy.

You look the best when you’re dressed up in Christmas lights. You have THE greatest neighbors. You have made me feel safe and at home for a long time. The heater and the fireplace might be your best qualities but we both know that’s only because I’m never not cold. Your plumbing is your worst quality, and it’s very like you for the bathtub to magically stop draining for no reason just a couple weeks before we leave. I think painting your living room wall black was possibly the best decision I made the entire time I lived there, but it’s white again and I still think you’re cute.

I know that you’ve never been my own but I felt like you belonged to me for the past year and half. Or maybe based on how I’m feeling it was the other way around. I think a part of my heart actually belonged to you. You are where I wanted to start a family, and I did, but it’s a family of fur babies instead of real babies. One day though, you’re going to be the house I drive by with the real babies I hoped to bring home to you. I’ll point and say “look kids, here’s the house that Mommy loved so much. Where I fell in love with daddy. Where I lived with Auntie Silver and played games every weekend. Where we made friends with the neighbors and dreaded having to tell them we were going to move. Where I learned how to be a dog mom for the first time.” And then they’ll probably roll their eyes and think ok cool mom it’s just a house.

And you are just a house. I know that. But you have been the best first house I could have ever lived in. I hope I feel about every house that I live in, the way that I have felt about you. I will never forget you, and I will never stop being grateful that I was lucky enough to live there.

Love,

The tenant