Done and dusted

My brother just sent me pictures of our childhood home, which is completely emptied of stuff. Seeing the mere shell of our house made reality sink in completely and as a result the tears started flowing again. Yeah, I was emotional when I had to go home last Wednesday, but I could still kind of pret me that my parents were just doing a major clean out and that they weren't moving. But nope, they're moving. 

I didn't realise you could mourn a house this much, but it's like saying goodbye to an old friend. There are so many memories attached to that house. So much happiness. It's always been my safe haven, especially since I moved away to Aberdeen. It was liberating to know I always had a home to come back to, where I felt safe. But now I won't ever set foot in that house again, and it breaks my heart. Well I guess, when I've been staying in my parents' new house in Portugal, that house will become my safe haven that I can escape to. After all, home is where the heart is. 

So goodbye house. Thanks for all you've given me.