Home!

I used to kind of scoff at that cheesy line in movies.  You know, when the sobbing actress claims she's crying tears of joy.  

Who cries when they're happy?

Well I'll tell you.  

I do.

Never before last night.  But last night was a little different.  I left work and did not go to the Comfort Suites. Instead I cruised down the freeway into Austin.  I exited and drove through a funky little area of cool businesses (I still maintain that I want to buy something at Smith & Robot.  No idea what they do, but they must be awesome).

Turned into a little neighborhood with small houses and happy, dog-walking folks out enjoying the cooler dusk air.  Pulled in front of the little casita at 1717 and ripped the "For Sale" sign down, opened the door, and was promptly picked up and carried inside.

Brendon and I are home! 

Home, not residing at or staying over or camping out.  Our silly couch is in this living room, our "beds" (mattresses stacked on box springs = bed, right? ha ha) are in each of the bedrooms.  One of the towels we could find among the boxes hangs in the bathroom.

If I could find my camera and usb cord, I swear you'd have photos of all this.

I was overwhelmed. And I cried. I had been nervous all day about coming home to the house, about how it would feel after all this pushing to get in.  But Brendon moved in all the boxes and few items of furniture while I was at work, signed the closing papers, and had things ready when I got home.  

And it felt just so good to be here.  It felt right and comfortable and really really good.

I can't tell if it's because we've been in limbo for so many weeks, or if it's because this is the culmination of a lot of changes at once, or if it's because it's just ours.  But I don't think I've ever been so happy to be anywhere before.