Finding Home

It’s official. The beau and I have moved into our new place.

Right now, it’s a cluttered mess of boxes and bags as we sort through everything, from cutlery to pillows to whatever that weird Buddha statue thing is. We spent more money this weekend than I ever thought possible, and yet it seems like nothing in the house is different. It still seems like it’s just waiting.

Waiting for us, I suppose.

We’ve slept there for two nights now, and it feels like sleeping in a hotel, where the bed isn’t quite ours and the room isn’t quite right. But, I imagine some weeks will go by and then I’ll wake up and think, “I’m so glad to be home.”

Until then, we’ll be eating Chinese takeout on the kitchen floor.

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Published by Ren Martinez

Ren is a thirty-something Lost Boy whose personal aesthetic is “suspected of witchcraft by local villagers.” She subscribes to cheerful nihilism, the destruction of the patriarchy, and the belief that glitter makes everything better. She is a Richmond-based writer and performer who has fiction and non-fiction work found in a variety of publications, such as The Mary Sue, RVA Magazine, The Quotable, and Nostrovia Press. She is currently the fiction editor and a regular contributor at Quail Bell Magazine. She is also the co-host of the podcast, This F***ing Guy! Find out more at renmartinez.com or read her dumbass tweets on Twitter @itsrenmartinez

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