We've moved the last of our stuff from the old apartment into the new one. I was surprised by how sad I felt the last time I went to the other house. It felt like home. Everything seemed profoundly familiar and beloved, and I had a hard time detaching from the things there that aren't ours but stay with the furnished apartment - things like mugs, towels, sheets. I guess maybe we imprinted on the place since it was the first place we lived here. When everything was strange and overwhelming, it was a safe and quiet retreat for our family.
So is this place, but I think part of me (I can't speak for the rest of the family on this) has held back a little bit emotionally, in part reserving judgement - is it really better than the other apartment? We shall see.
I think our reasons for moving were solid, and this is a good place. I think it will take a season or two before it really feels like home though.
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