It's been six years this month since we put the deposit down on the House of Pain.
Since it's right across the street from where I work, I can see the giant trees in the backyard every time I walk to the mailroom.
I envisioned us retiring there, but heck no, he fucked that one up bigtime.
Not sad or anything anymore, I've definitely moved on (three actual moves later) and enjoy my new life immensely. I would not trade it or go back to the way things were.
Just marking the occasion. Every spring equinox I get strong sense memories of what I was thinking and feeling as the renovations were going on, and how excited I was about finally getting a house of our own, all while he was distracted and deep in the final affair.
Now it's just a reminder of the hell I survived.
[This message edited by FaithFool at 2:55 PM, March 14th (Friday)]