I woke up this morning to blue skies and frigid temperatures in the mid-20's. Winter has arrived in Salt Lake City, although fall looks like it is holding on with plenty of colorful leaves left on the trees. I went for a brisk walk after breakfast and it was beautiful, but cold. I huffed and puffed up the hills that I once ran with ease (4,000 feet of elevation + pregnancy will do that). It's a good thing that I brought my camera so that I had an excuse to take a break and catch my breath.
I just got back from our loft, which now has a complete stranger living in it. I was nervous and my palms started to sweat as I walked down the hallway into our home that someone else is now calling their own. I was there to oversee the installation of window blinds (which turned out to be a disaster) and it was good to be back in that familiar space but it was also overwhelmingly sad at the same time. I don't know why it has taken me so long to realize that we no longer live in Salt Lake City or that Boston is now our home but seeing our place not as our place was like the final nail in the coffin of our former life in Utah.
We don't live here anymore. We're not going to live here again for a while. Get used to it.
I am sure you think I'm a lunatic that I am still lamenting having moved away and that I still have such strong feelings about a loft and about a city but I'm okay with that. I guess when you love something, it is hard to let it go. Surely you can relate to that.