Oh apartment 305… how I will miss thee.
I will not miss your small size or your cluttered closets, nor will I miss tiptoeing around in fear of pissing off my neighbours. I will not miss sharing your washing machines with 40 other strangers, and I will not miss fuzes blowing every time we run the air conditioner and microwave at the same time. I will neither miss the upstairs neighbours enjoying their weekly Sunday morning romps nor will I look back fondly on the guy down the hall playing the accordion. I won’t miss your cramped kitchen or singular bathroom either.
But I will miss the carelessness of renting you, not worrying when I spill something or when someone comes in with shoes on. I will miss the big tree that shaded our balcony and whose rustling leaves soothed me to sleep on windy fall mornings. I will miss the cozy Christmas tree the landlord would set up in our entryway and I will miss giggling with Mike as we eavesdrop on the few crazies who have lived near you in the last 10 years. I will think back fondly about the first weeks we ever lived here, the first of our friends to have our very own place, the excitement of our new-found independence, carving our first pumpkin and getting our first Christmas tree and hosting our first overnight guests. I’ll always remember the milestones, like the birthday parties and baby showers we held in our quaint living room, and the many date nights Mike and I shared curled up on the futon with movies or making elaborate dinners in a closet-sized cookery.
Apartment 305, you were our first home and you were a good home. I know that for years to come we will drive by your secluded balcony and look up at what was once our bedroom window and think back fondly on our decade here. And I hope you’re as good to the next tenants as you were to me and Mike.
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