It’s been a while since I’ve made a blog post. There’s actually a reason for that, surprisingly. My husband Damian and I recently bought a house! The house is great, there’s so many things that we both really love about it, including the fact that it has just been built so no one has ever lived there before and also we have 9acres to explore.
I am aware of all of the amazing things about the new house. I know that this is a step forward for us and that it will give me, personally, much better options for my home studio (for my photography). At the same time, my heart is breaking because it means saying goodbye to the place we’ve lived for the past 5 years; our home.
The lofts we lived in are built from a converted cotton mill that was built in the 1800s. I’ve always been attracted to this structure, mainly because I love the idea of living in a building that started life as something else. Many of the original fixtures are still involved in the floorplan of the apartments and hallways. When I got a divorce and was, for the first time, about to live on my own, this is the place that I came to make my home. I had always wanted to live here and because of the financial situation with my ex (he drained all my money and would never keep a job), it was never a possibility. My ex and I moved around at least once a year, sometimes more, ever since I moved out of my parent’s house at 17. I wanted a “home,” and I chose this place.
When Damian and I started dating I had just moved into a small studio on the far side of the complex. It was the perfect size for me, and had it’s own quaint qualities. He would visit me almost every single day, driving an hour and a half from work to my loft. Sometimes he would spend the night, sometimes he didn’t, but slowly he started moving his stuff in and spending the night more. Eventually he did move in with me into the studio. This lasted a few months until we decided to get a bigger space and moved across the parking lot, to the apartment with the porch that the photo above was taken from. And here we’ve lived together for 4.5 years.
We have so many memories from the lofts and it’s so hard to let that go. We will always have those memories though, and we are sure to make new ones in our brand new house. It still kind of hurts my heart to think of another couple moving in and making that their own home, but I suppose that’s the cycle with an apartment; it can never last forever. As I’m writing this, we have moved into our new house already and it is starting to feel a little bit like home now. I expect that once we are able to decorate more and hang our photos that it will feel even more so. It will never be an old brick cotton mill from the 1800s, but I’m starting to think that it may be even better: it’s ours.
The above photo is our initials and wedding date carved into the ceiling of the old loft. I’d like to think we’re a part of the place’s history now.
My vlog/loft tour on my youtube
Of Cloves and Roses 