104: A Love Letter Before I Leave

There’s always something so bittersweet about moving.

The thrill of a fresh start, the promise of new beginnings.
The ache of leaving behind a chapter that shaped you.

For almost four years, 104 was more than an address—it was a lifeline. The place where independence first knocked on my door and I answered. The walls that heard laughter spill from next door where my best friend lived. The torn-up carpet that welcomed two tiny kitties (sorry, landlord/bestie). The safe space that held me through postpartum nights and allowed me to form a bond with my baby boy.

These walls didn’t just hold furniture—they held pieces of me. They caught my tears, echoed my laughter, and hosted more than a few wild girls’ nights. They were the backdrop to quiet mornings with coffee and loud music while cleaning. They were my shelter in storms—both the ones outside and the ones inside my heart.

Moving means boxing up more than belongings. It means folding memories into cardboard and sealing them with tape. It means walking through rooms that feel smaller now because they’re empty, yet somehow heavier because they’re full of moments you can’t pack.

104 taught me lessons I didn’t know I needed. How to stand on my own two feet. How to lean on others when life feels heavy. How to love myself through seasons of change. It gave me space to grow, to heal, and to become the version of me who’s ready for what’s next.

And what’s next? A new chapter with the ones I love. A house that feels like possibility. A space to build new traditions, new laughter, and new memories together. It’s exciting and a little scary—because every new beginning comes with unknowns—but it’s a step forward.

104 will always be a dog-ear in my story, because home isn’t just where you live- it’s where you grow. And sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is close one door so another can open. 

As I turn the key for the last time, I’m reminded that every ending is just an opening to something new. Here’s to packing up the past, unboxing the future, and finding life lines in every chapter I write.

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