We’re moving. Again. And I’m so happy, I can barely stand it.

This will be our third house. I’ve done the drill before. Twice (here and here). That’s why it’s so strange – how new this is, how different it feels, this time. I’m so excited, I’m bursting at the seams. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat.

I just think: New house, new house, new house.

It’s on the water. The whole side of it glass. With water views from every room.

I’ve wanted waterfront property my whole life, but you know, things like money really get in the way. Especially when it comes to real estate.

But I think we just got lucky. Incredibly lucky. And I think our buyer did too. We priced our current house at a steal. And now things are starting to fall into place.

It’s not Warsaw. I know I’ve been writing a lot about Warsaw. And I had hoped that we would live there, someday.

Because my husband said we would.

And then he said we wouldn’t.

And it is so beautiful, I thought, of course we would live there. Eventually. We couldn’t lose something that beautiful. Could we?

But my husband doesn’t want it. And we’ve been fighting about it all year. Bitterly. Terribly. How he envisioned his life versus how I envisioned mine and all that entails. For a while, I thought, I could lose my marriage over this.

And I thought, Well, at least I’ll get to live at Warsaw for the year we’d be separated. Because that’s the way divorce works in Virginia. You have to live separately for a year.

But then, I thought, I don’t want to live there without him. Without him, it’s just a house filled with echoes. It’s nothing.

I love that house because it’s him. It is his history. It is his story. I love it because whenever I go there, I’m with him. Because he’s funny. And fun to be with.

Not always, mind you. No marriage is perfect. I’ve tried to be honest, here and elsewhere, because I don’t think it helps anybody to gloss over things or pretend like your life is really like your Instagram feed. I don’t see the point of writing anything if it’s not going to have some piece of truth to it. Especially when it comes to things like marriage.

Which takes compromise.

Like this house, the new house.

It’s not Warsaw.

But maybe it will be better.

Because it’s what we both want.

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