Achilles (I think I'm just going to start calling him Abe from now on) and I are moving in a month or two.
We're going to live in my grandmother's house because it shouldn't sit empty; because it has a huge backyard for Bailey; because it's cheaper and closer to work.
We can't sell the condo right now, so we'll rent it out. I'm not sure that I want to be a landlord, but I think the move will be a good thing. Abe, Bailey and I aren't exactly cramped in the condo, but we'll definitely enjoy a little more room to breathe. It'll be nice to have curb-side recycling and a garden that isn't planted in pots. I'll have a compost bin, and my dad said he'll help me get started raising a few chickens.
Still, it breaks my heart a little to leave my condo. Sure, I joked that ghosts broke every appliance in my first year of home ownership, but I love the high ceilings, the natural light, the safe neighborhood, and the friendly neighbors who tell me over and over how much they adore Bailey.
My grandma's house is older, and a bit dreary. Our new neighbors have emphasized that they are not dog fans, and that they expect that Bailey will not bark. The neighborhood... is a little sketchy, sometimes.
Most likely, things will turn out fine. Most likely, we won't end up with tenants from hell who destroy the condo. We'll clean and paint my grandma's house, and it will feel just as bright and happy as our condo did. Most likely, we'll get along with our neighbors. Maybe they'll even learn to like Bailey, or at least to get along with him.
Most likely, it'll be a good step.
I'm just a little scared to pick up my foot.