When my ex moved out in December, I was at a bit of a loss for what to do with the house we’d bought together. Sure, it was technically all mine (the mortgage and deed are both in my name) but fair is fair and he’d been paying half the mortgage since we moved in. However, he had agreed to stay until the house sold, and that didn’t end up happening, so…fair is fair. I was stuck with the mortgage, so the house was/is mine.
Still, it was more than I could afford by my lonesome. I was looking at either moving into a studio apartment in a terrible neighborhood (that I still probably couldn’t afford) (and only if I could find a place that would let me bring my 3 cats and one dog) or buying a very small house in a terrible neighborhood (that I could afford, but eeehhhh). The whole prospect was very overwhelming.
Meanwhile, across town, my best friend and her wife have been trying to move to Massachusetts for years. Their house has a grudge against them and despite their success as independently published authors something always seems to stand in the way of them being able to sell their house and move. For over a year I’ve listened to some rather exciting but totally alarming ideas they’ve had about how to Make The Move, and as much as I admire their bravery my Taurean practicality had something to say.
“Why don’t you move in with me?” I offered. “We’d split everything, so we’d be saving money. You’d be able to get your pets out of the house so you could fix it and sell it. You’d have time to save up for a down-payment for when you do move to MA. And, come on, we’ve been best friends for almost 10 years. I think this could be MAGICAL.”
Cue clouds parting, sun shining, angels singing.
It took less than three months for them to pack up their lives and their animals and move into my 3 bedroom colonial in South Buffalo. Everything fell into place so quickly and easily, as if the Universe Itself was managing the move. It’s been about 3 weeks now since they’ve moved in (along with their dogs and cats, who have blended perfectly with my animals), and Buffalo is very slowly creeping into actual spring-like weather. The perfect time of year to ease into a new beginning. Accordingly, we have re-christened the house: Sparkle Star Manor.
(The joke of “Sparkle Star Manor” is that I’m not actually a very sparkly person–I’m more of a smoldering embers kind of person that occasionally shoots off sparks–but my roommates are VERY sparkly. However, when I was about 6 or 7 years old, I used to insist that I was going to change my name to Sparkle Star because I thought it was the coolest. So the name was resurrected because, regardless of how sparkly or not we are as people, our home together is going to be a hurricane of magic and excitement that can only really be named Sparkle Star Manor.)
I could go on an on about how cool it is to live with your best friend, even at the age of 28 (29 in a month!), or how weird/awesome it is to come home after a day at the office to a clean house and a fresh pot of tea and two people who are genuinely interested in listening and sharing. I could go on and on about the amazing conversations we’ve already had, the magic that we can feel is taking shape within the walls of the house, the amazing things we have planned for the year ahead. But for now it is enough for me just to look around me and feel at peace. For the first time in years I feel like I don’t have to worry about anything. Everything is good. Everything is alright.
Also: if the idea of three mildly eccentric authors living and writing together is at all fascinating to you, you’re in luck! We’ve started a blog. We’ll be chronicling our adventures, posting lots of pictures, and sharing a boat-load of recipes since we have a vegetarian, a gluten-free vegan, and a soy-free Paleo in the house, and WE LOVE A CHALLENGE in the kitchen.
Alternative lifestyles! I live them!