I smiled as I looked back to the house, finally feeling the weight lift off of me. Staring at the front door filled me with warmth as I knew I’d never have to wake up and relive the memories inside those walls again.
The sun kissed my cheek before a small breeze took away its affection. I looked to the ‘sold’ sign; for the first time in years I’d felt the black cloud that had loomed over me finally break, letting the rays pour through.
I felt its intimidating presence fizz away as I noticed the house’s colour wash over its wooden panelling; as if someone had carelessly tossed a covered paintbrush into a mason jar full of clear water. I watched the colour bleed over the exterior, seeing the life pour back into the house.
Families could make a thousand memories here; they could fill the living room with laughter and the dining room with love, future Christmas dinners and poorly written jokes from a cracker.
A place I had looked at so negatively for as long as I could remember was due to be someone’s new beginning, someone’s fixer-upper – a house to nurture and make into a home for generations to come.
I felt grateful that I was now able to start afresh, to start my new beginning on my own terms. Yes – I was definitely sold on that.
(Image taken from Pintrest.)
Victoria Pheasey 