life as i know it.

life as a house.

recently i’ve discovered that my ex, nay, THE ex is buying a home with his new girlfriend.  i don’t have any feelings for him at all anymore and there isn’t a tinge of jealousy whatsoever but it’s still very weird to me.  i don’t know how to feel about it.  i’m happy that he’s in that stage of his life where he’s looking into becoming a homeowner, and i am glad that he’s with someone that complements him so well.  to me, the home is the complete physical embodiment of why our relationship was never meant to work.

the house reminds me of a 1950’s nuclear family home.  the exact kind of house that started popping up as families moved out of the big cities after world war II and started moving into the suburbs. it’s quaint, simple and cute in its own way.  the house is everything that i am not; it’s the reason why i’m pursuing graduate school, furthering my education and moving to a different city.

i’m not trying to negate him as a homeowner.  in fact that’s completely admirable that he can afford to buy a home, (especially since it was only a little over a  year ago that he was unable to pay his own parking tickets :\) but seeing that house makes me realize that was the future that he wanted, and that future that was never in my cards.  our dreams of moving to portland together weren’t our dreams, they were my dreams.

i’m glad that things worked out the way they did. everything really does happen for a reason and i’m excited to see what my future holds and the adventures i’ll have in portland.

i’m closing out a chapter in my life and starting a new one and oddly enough, so is he. we were just reading out of different books.