So It's Like That?

This is a letter to our current house.

(Note the deliberate omission of the word "dear") House,

So I guess by now you've figured out we're leaving, and judging by the way things went down this weekend, you're not prepared to go down without a fight. But let me tell you, it is going to take a LOT more than some crackhead ringing our doorbell in the middle of the night to break us.

We've put up with a lot of crap from you over the past three years, but IT ENDS NOW. (Actually, it ends this Thursday at 3pm when we sign our lease papers at the new house.) We were willing to overlook your gangster lean and the fact that walking into the guest bedroom felt like hiking a small mountain. We chalked it up to bad luck when Gary's bike was stolen off the back porch less than a day after he moved in. We looked the other way when the crackheads moved in next door, and if I do say so myself, dealt with their two-story meth lab getting condemned, vandalized, and burned down with an unusual amount of grace and poise.* We laughed it off when we found that dude asleep on our lawn, and the fact that it had become necessary for us to have the Colorado Springs non-emergency police line on speed-dial didn't seem like that big of a deal.

When we got robbed, I'm not gonna lie, it hurt. In a moment of weakness, you may remember me shedding a few tears and/or sobbing in the fetal position in the middle of the living room floor for a good half hour. Gary was out of town and therefore wasn't available to kill spiders/tuck me in/beat up the bad guys who took our computer, so yeah, my armor cracked a little. But I can assure you with the utmost certainty that he's here now and TOGETHER WE ARE UNSTOPPABLE!

In the immortal words of Archie Eversol, we ready.

So BRING IT.

Hoping you die a slow, painful, termite-infested death,

Emily

*Don't ask me why, but I think it's really funny to apply the word poise to Gary Gray.