To The New Owner Of My House

Well, you found the one. Four beds, five baths, and storage galore; a happy family’s dream home. They say home is where the heart is, and where you choose to live is where you choose to love. You need know that my heart is invested in this place and I’m sure yours will be too. This isn’t the home I grew up in, but it is the home I found myself in.

If there’s only one thing you get from this letter, let it be this: this home a safe place to lose yourself because I guarantee you will be found. This home taught me that even though my walls may crack and shake, the roof above me will never cave in. Brick walls, concrete floors, and high ceilings hold a lot more than you think; it holds my heart.

This house was built when I was eleven. The one of a kind home was a brand new place for a brand new family. It was untouched, but it didn’t stay that way for long. The stains that cover the driveway weren’t always there but if you ask me, scars add character.

From the black splotches where the driveway kisses the road (explaining our first fourth of July) to the overlapping tire marks showcasing the people eager to leave, this house is crawling with memoires. The side door has held hands with hundreds of people and seen faces come and go like the seasons change. The padlock that sleeps under the doorknob has been shared to only a few people; it’s sad to say that the four numbered combination is now just left over information to some of those. Those people that left and never looked back took a toll on me, but most materialistic items in this world are temporary and this home taught me that some people are too.

And that’s okay, because the lock on the door was shared to new people and these people use it every day. Inside that door is the garage (or my stepdad’s treasure chest). It’s best that you keep it that way when we leave; that’s what it was made for after all. The house is wrapped with flowers and bushes, my mother’s attempt to show her not-so green thumb she yearned to have.

The front porch doesn’t have many visitors; your guests will learn that the walk to the side door is much easier than the hike to the double doors framed in the front. The doors perched on the face of the house are always locked anyways. The people that come to visit will adore your home, as should you.

Yes, the outside of this house is very beautiful, but you haven’t seen true beauty until you walk in. This home holds many wonderful things, but most of them are locked inside.

Not everyone gets to see these breathtaking sights, and that’s a shame. But this home taught me that not everyone deserves to see what outer beauty holds instore. As soon as you step foot into the two story masterpiece, you’ll see my mother everywhere (or at least I do).

The dark brown floors glisten the way her hair does when the sun hits it just right; the red pantry door tells the story of her limitless mind and adventurous heart. My mother decorated this home like it was on the front of a magazine. I know you can’t see the beautiful décor now but boy you should have.

Her room is the loveliest room in the house; it was my safe haven. Sleepless nights, raging storms, unbearable loneliness; chaos doesn’t exist inside of those four walls. Once you walk down the hallway and through the tall door into that space, the world and all of its noise fades away. This room holds the most love, so be sure to love the most in it.

The hallways to this home deserve much admiration; they always stay firm and work as a guide, especially when you can barely put one foot in front of the other. These walls make for great listeners and they never judge. They saw me at my strongest and weakest points and yet they still gave me shelter. I found myself leaning on these walls more than my closest friends, rest easy and place all of your burdens into their hands; watch how they hold the weight of this world for you.

This house holds the most beauty in the mornings when all is still and new. The best room to see the light the sun casts is in the far back left, my old room. I found that no matter what light the sun has to show, it’s always brightest in this room. Even the darkest day was appealing through that window.

Most of my time spent in this house was done inside those four walls. I can tell you that the fan ticks every three minutes and no matter how many times you change the light in the left corner, it was always go out before the three others. The door creaks and there will never be enough WD-40 to fix it. Behind the bathroom door there is the word “WORN” painted faintly with water color that never came off and it probably never will.

The walls in the closet have measurements and equations indented into their skin from when the home was first built. Abstract splatters of nail polish still coat the floor where my bed used to be; it’s not as noticeable now but if you look hard enough you can tell it was a shade of baby blue. This room has a lot of things about it you probably wish you could fix but you can’t. It is the most flawed room of the home, but definitely my favorite.

It holds beautiful beginnings and the best sunrise throughout the whole house. In this space, I learned that mistakes and quirks add charm and makes for unbeatable stories. Without the time that I had in this confined area, I wouldn’t have found the brightest light seeping through the cracks beneath my brokenness. And I most definitely wouldn’t have loved my flaws as much as I do now.

This home, my home, will always stand tall in my heart. It was the place I learned to love not only myself but also those that try tear me down; the ones that make my walls stronger. During your time here, love like it’s the only thing you know how to do and make memories; I promise it's easy to do with a place like this. Make mistakes and love the way the wounds look; your new house has a lot of beautiful scars itself.

Trust me when I say this house will become a part of you; not a day goes by when I don’t think about the impact this place left on me. Take care this home for me, I know it’ll take care of you.


Shae Miller

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.

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