8 years ago I left an abusive relationship and moved into a hostel with my then 3 year old. I had to leave my job etc. After a few months I was lucky enough to be given a council house on a lovely little street. DS and I have lived here for 7 years and tonight is our last night, I have scrimped and saved and finally bought a beautiful house with my DP. My house is far, far from perfect but this house saved me and DS and we’ve had so many happy times here. I met DP and he’s lovely but this has always been our little house, DS can’t remember living with his dad or the hostel. I am in a totally different position now to where I was after leaving, back then we had no house/car/money. I’ve since retrained as a teacher, have a good job, solid income etc.
I can’t wait to live with DP and the area we are moving to (only 2 miles away) is such a lovely place to grow up but I feel sad that this little house which is mine that no one could take off me is going. But I hope it goes to a family who will make memories like us.
I am rambling now but I feel a bit sad, as excited as I am it’s bittersweet.