I moved just after turning 7. It was December and the school year was already underway. I don’t remember being sad or scared of moving from my first house, and away from all of my friends. I suspect I didn’t completely grasp what was happening at the time. All I do remember is that I was excited to move because the real estate listing my mom had printed out said you were “Robin’s egg blue.” When I drew houses as a child, they were always that same color.

That was almost 20 years ago. Now, you’re listed as “for sale,” and I have a lot of conflicting emotions about it. I’m happy for my parents’ next adventure. They put a lot of work into you over the years, and now it’s time to move on. But I can’t help but feel sad.

Even though I haven’t personally lived there the past 4 and a half years—as I’ve been making a new home with my fiancé—you’ve still been an available sanctuary to me. It’s hard saying goodbye to an old friend, especially one that has been with me all through my formidable years. And I do consider you a friend. The joy and pain that happened within these walls helped create who I am today. You’ve helped shape me just as my friends and family and life experiences have.

It hasn’t always been a healthy relationship, yours and mine. In the past I was destructive; I slammed doors, by accidentally dropped glass on the kitchen tile, spilled nail polish remover on the rug, stained the bathroom walls with hair dye. As chaotic of an entity as I was, you were always sturdy, predictable, a literal roof over my head. You even became a safe haven to me from my growing social anxiety. You transitioned from home to classroom as I took up homeschooling during my sophomore year of high school.

Within your walls, I experienced first, second, and third kisses; crying fits and screaming into my pillow; broken hearts and fights with friends, disagreements with my parents; inside jokes and countless laughs; almost 20 years worth of holidays spent surrounded by loved ones; pure and unending love.

Although you’re not a living, breathing entity, I feel like I’m losing a childhood best friend. There are so many memories and meaningful life lessons caught within your walls. I just hope the family moving in next will have just as an amazing time with you as my family and I have.

I sincerely want to thank you. You’ve always been more than just a house—you’re a home—and I’ll never forget you.