When I was in elementary school, I would run off the school bus and into the house, grab a cup of chocolate pudding, and watch an episode of Full House in the living room while doing my homework. Then I went outside to play on my swing set or jump on the trampoline with my friends across the road. My room was the one on the front right side of the house, and it treated me well over the years. It was all so much fun. This house is where I grew up and spent my entire childhood.

The basement was my playroom, and it's where I spent a lot of my time with friends. I had a karaoke machine that I could plug two microphones in to, and my friends and I would belch out all of the lyrics to Hilary Duff, Carrie Underwood, Taylor Swift, and Hannah Montana. We would spend hours down there making so much noise and it was always a blast.

I remember the day I came home from school and saw workers turning our tile flooring into hard-wood. I remember when my parents finally let me paint my room hot pink. I remember when we got our first dog and how much she brought our family together. I remember taking her on walks up and down the street and around the house. I also remember the (very annoying) sound of her uncontrollably barking every morning at six.

I remember packing up our van to go to Myrtle Beach every summer, and arguing with my brother over which movie we got to watch first on the way there. I remember the smell of popcorn at night when my dad would watch a movie after I went to bed. I remember the excitement on Christmas Eve and the morning of Christmas at the thought of Santa Claus coming to visit. I remember crawling into the middle of my parents bed every night to sleep because I was afraid of the dark.

I also remember when my family went through a rough patch. I remember locking myself in my room with my music as loud as it would go to drown out the sound of my parents fighting. I remember crying myself to sleep at night because I didn't know what was going on. I remember the horrible couple of months before my parents divorced and seeing my mom cry every day and every night. I remember when they finally told me they were getting a divorced, and how I was both devastated and relieved over it. I remember coming home from school to see my grandma and aunt there helping my mom pack up her things, and then me having to decide what to pack in boxes to take to my moms new house and what to keep at my home. I remember only being at the home I grew up in every Thursday and every other weekend, and how I lost my connection to the home.

That is, until my dad finally sold it to you about a month ago. May 18, 2016 was the last time I ever had the privilege of stepping foot in my home and it was really surreal. Every time I'm on that side of town now, I feel empty because I no longer have a key or a garage door opener to that house and can't go inside. It's not my house anymore.

There is one thing I know for sure, and it's that you are going to fall more in love with it every day the same way I did. When you decide to have kids it will become even more special. You're going to make an unlimited amount of precious memories. You're going to go through some really exciting times and some really challenging times. But regardless, I speak from experience that your home will treat you well.

I may not be able to go to my childhood home anymore, but I will always have my family and the memories it brought me. It's not just a house, because a house has no meaning. A house becomes a home when it holds a family that loves each other indefinitely and builds many memories. I know you will treat my old home well.