Saying Goodbye to my old Apartment...

So, admittedly, this post has much more to do with me than with Johnie or our life together, but when remembering this time in my life, moving out of that apartment was a big deal for me, and I must have one post just for that little place in Richmond, KY that will always have a special place in my heart.

In December 2006, one of the hardest parts of marrying Johnie was giving up my apartment.  I had hoped my roommate would want to keep it so that I could continue to visit it whenever I was in town.  But she decided to move out, too, and I understood her decision.  I did not look forward to saying goodbye to my little home.  Even today, in this big wide world, and all the places I've visited and lived, Richmond, KY is where I consider my home to be.  I've often said that I would have been content living my entire life in that little place and would have loved to begin my married life in it.

After transferring to EKU, a friend from high school and I decided to get a place of our own.  After a small search, we visited her cousin's girlfriend's place and considered her offer to let us move in with her.  It was cheap and workable, so we agreed.  I packed all my belongings into the back of my blue 1991 Chevrolet Cavalier and officially moved out of my home and out on my own into this apartment.  My friend and I bought matching beds and shared a bedroom of the second story apartment.

I had been craving independence.  I wasn't wild or rebelious, but I didn't want to have to answer to or ask permission from anyone to do the things I wanted to do - as low key as staying out late on a Friday night, or going out with friends may be.  While this place gave me that, it wasn't an immediate love between us.  We knew that three people in a two bedroom apartment would be tight, but it wasn't just the three of us.  Our new roommate had friends and family visiting almost always.  She did hook me up with a job as a front desk clerk at a local Comfort Suites which I greatly enjoyed.  But, I worked several third shift nights, and would often come home to complete strangers sleeping in the living room when returning in the morning. 

Thankfully, those conditions didn't last for long.  By the end of the summer, our roommate let us know she would be moving out.  My high school friend said she would be moving out, too.  I was anxious during that time, but before I was stuck with my bills tripling, my best friend took me up on moving in the vacant second bedroom.  And this is when my affection for the dwelling began to increase.  With my roommates gone, I was left with an empty home.  My grandfather gave me an old couch.  It was the only thing in the living room.  Misty moved in and filled up the bedroom, and decorated the bathroom.  With a few little accents she made the lone couch actually look good.  We combined our money and bought a dining room table. 

Mip is quite the interior decorator, and she definitely transformed the apartment.  She was reluctant, but I talked her into decorating the kitchen and dining room in cherries.  She said to me that she was surprisingly relieved that my ideas for those areas turned out not to be tacky at all!  She enhanced my work by tying little cherries onto the dining room chairs, painting and framing a cluster of cherries, and even making a little cherry window cling for the kitchen window.  With my best friend living with me, the apartment felt like home.

Misty only lived with me a few months before relocating to Louisville.  I had taken a second job and was able to afford the rent on my own, and decided against yet another new roommate. The lease on the apartment had been signed several year's prior by my original roommate's cousin before she even moved in.  Rent was set then and never increased.  Beyond that, the apartment complex across the street had a pool and fitness center.  While we technically weren't supposed to use those facilities, the codes were shared freely.  While my guilt prevented me from using those facilities very often, I did still brag about having access to them with such cheap rent.  My family bought me a new desk, and I transformed my second bedroom into an office.  I made everything about the apartment exactly the way I wanted it.  It was wonderful.  My boyfriend at the time and his parents showered me with many gifts to help make the apartment even better including kitchenware, a washer and dryer, a computer, and quite a few decorations. 

While I was nervous about living alone, and honestly there were some nights that were very lonely, I loved this experience for the most part.  I will always be thankful for this time in my life, and believe I will always look back fondly on it.  I accepted an internship in Bloomington, IN during the summer of 2005.  While I spent that summer in a dorm in Indiana, I kept my Kentucky apartment.  While at IU, I forged a friendship with a fellow intern.  We traveled together back and forth from Kentucky.  I don't remember who talked who into what, but by the time the internship was over, I had a new roommate.  And, while I had a total of 7 different roommates throughout my college years, Sarah will always be my college roommate. 

My little apartment transformed yet again to accommodate what I really felt was a true college living experience.  I had a fellow roommate who had tons of classes and homework like me.  We left notes for one another, bought a table, chairs, and umbrella and began utilizing the back deck to its fullest potential (and actually pushed some limits after a fire involving a table top grill with improvised legs).  We even snuck in a cat my friend could no longer keep after getting married.  It was yet another wonderful experience.

Before I moved into my place, my father told me I'd never be able to cover my bills and keep up with my classes.  I wasn't sure he was wrong at first.  But I proved to myself and the world that I could make it.  This little apartment was the central hub of my life.  It housed many wonderful times and great laughs.  It was the place where I first began navigating adulthood.  It is where I heard some of my friends' deepest fears, concerns, and secrets, and shared my own.  It was there that the man I loved knelt on one knee and promised to ask me to marry him someday, and that same place I broke both of our hearts by ending that relationship a couple years later.  (Laughably, I also panicked during that proposal as well.  I did accept the promise ring on his first "try," but I felt like I had to make a verbal response to "I promise to ask you to marry me," and was at a loss for words.  I thought it was expected for me to say that I promise to say yes, but I also felt like you couldn't break a promise and didn't want to commit so fully that I couldn't back out later.  My response was, "I promise to let you ask me.")  It was there that I completed my Bachelor's degree and began my graduate degree.  It was in that apartment where I spent hours and hours and hours talking with Johnie, and ultimately accepted (and followed through with) his proposal.

On this return trip to Kentucky, just days before my wedding, I closed the door to my apartment for the last time.  Johnie and I stopped by it on the way to my family's home on Christmas day.  I picked up a few final things.  I raised the shades in the kitchen, but couldn't bring myself to remove the little cherry window cling.  And, as dorky as it sounds, I sometimes still get a lump in my throat when I think of driving down North Keeneland and not seeing them if I look up at that second story window.