The first time you move in with a significant other, you’re bombarded with real-life obstacles, learning to balance finances as a duo, extra laundry, learning the ins and outs of the kitchen, a glimpse at your forever, overwhelming happiness, stress, frustrations as you learn one another’s habits— good and bad, love you never knew existed, super raw emotions, tears— both happy and sad— and irreplaceable memories.
We’re currently drowning in boxes as we unpack from our big move up to Northern California, and as I look back on our first year as a live-in couple I am overwhelmed with emotions (this could be the wine talking). I am oober excited for the next chapter, but sad to leave the apartment that built the foundation of our relationship. So, this one’s for you tiny one-bedroom—
Dear tiny first apartment,
Thank you for showing me what real-life love is like. It’s not perfect, contrary to what the movies led me to believe. Dinners in your kitchen didn’t always turn out how the Pinterest recipe intended them to, but you taught me how to cook. The floors didn’t always get cleaned after baking scones, but slow Sunday mornings in your living room were a gem. Wine got spilled on the white carpet (more often than it should have), but we made memories there every Friday night. Sharing your tiny bathroom was frustrating and I got annoyed (a lot), but it was worth it when date night consisted of margaritas in the cute and quaint downtown right outside your front door. Sometimes laying in bed and chatting until noon was better than waking up and going for a run. And sometimes things got so stressful that I wanted to run away from you, tiny apartment. We fought between those four walls, but we loved too. Things got hard, but things also got so good that my heart wanted to explode.
Real-life love is messy, but it is real and it’s forever.
So thank you, first-apartment, for teaching me how to live with another human, how to forgive and how to apologize when I am wrong (which isn’t very often), how to accept what I cannot change, how to pick my battles and how to love unconditionally. Thank you for teaching me about life, and about myself.
We will miss you (and the yummy nachos downtown), it was good run, but we’re on to bigger and better things— two bedrooms and two bathrooms (thank God).
Your loving resident