The next couple of days will find me back at the old house getting things clear and ready for decorating so that we can finally look to putting it on the market.
Having only been there a few weekends since last July, and with the rubbish tip having restricted access during lockdown, there is a lot of old rubbish and crap to clear out. We've booked a waste clearance company to do it for us as it would take months of booking appointments for ourselves and we really want to get it done ASAP – a worthy investment.
It will again feel incredibly weird going back. That part of our lives just doesn't register any more, it's gone – history. It's almost like the house was never ours, it doesn't feel like it. Still, the reality of the mortgage payments leaving our account every month anchor us firmly back in reality. The sooner we can close the door on it all the better.
It's strange to think that you can box up 12 years of your life and put it aside so easily, almost forget that it ever happened. I think it's because it was a compromise and never where we saw ourselves living. Our previous house was in an area that went downhill very quickly and we knew we had to get out and I think we ended up where we did by default rather than desire. I compare the feeling we have now to then and realise we were never truly happy or settled.
In conversation recently my wife has rhetorically asked "why did it take us so long?" I think you get comfortable and complacent, even when things aren't what you want – you just get used to them and fall into a routine. Before you know it, years have passed and you find yourself wondering why.
@colinwalker I occasionally walk past the house we used to live in when we moved to Watford. Over forty years have passed since we moved out of there to a house a few blocks away. I have thought about knocking on the front door and introducing myself, but then I suspect that the interior would be unrecognisable now from what I remember.
It took us too long to move, but I am so glad we did.