We've got our work cut out for us in the next few days. Packing up EVERYTHING. Taking all of our belongings down three flights of stairs. Arranging all of our boxes/furniture into a U-Haul trailer. Making the 8 hour drive to Phoenix, Arizona. Five more days. It's all becoming very real.

This apartment means so much to me. To us. It holds so many sweet memories. It was our first home.  It was the apartment that Garrison picked out on his own while I was still at EFY working my last summer there. Garrison calls it his, "first real test as a husband," I simply call it, "home." This is where I made my first meal for us as a married couple. This is where I first cried about not knowing how to make a meal. This is where we watched movies as a couple and had our first halloweens. I celebrated two birthdays here and so did Garrison. We celebrated our first two Christmases here. I took my first pregnancy test here. We were both sick here (as a couple). We both spent many hours/days inside of these walls as I was sick with what we later found out to be a malfunctioning IUD--summer of 2011 was spent mostly inside (for me). We studied for finals and Garrison spent hours upon hours at our counter studying for the LSAT in this apartment. We spent Easters and general conferences in here loving the life we'd created together. We got ready for graduation here and celebrated our accomplishments with cupcakes in the living room. We've decorated it for valentines day and had balloons and flowers for other special occasions. 

A house is so much more than four walls; it's where love resides. I had never before known the true feeling of "going home" before having my own place to call mine with Garrison. When I think of home I think of the comfort that this apartment has blessed me with. I think of the safety that embraces me when I walk through the door. I think there's no place like home, and right now that's apartment 302 in Provo, Utah. This apartment has housed so many of my emotions, our experiences, and trials, with such class. It's never given me more than I could handle, though at times I did think there were too many spiders (and larger ones at that). This apartment has quickly become home and after two years it seems as though there's no where else to call home but 302. I love it here.

I'll never forget when I first walked through the door with Garrison to "check it out,"the apartment seemed perfect. I was so grateful to have a fiance that listened to my requests, and met his as well. It was just what I had imagined, and more, for our "home." I didn't get to move in. But I remember helping Garrison arrange the furniture while I planned our wedding from across the country. It's taken a few trips to Ikea and thrift shops to get our home looking like a home and now we're boxing it up. I never thought I'd be as attached to a place as I am to this place that I call "home." I moved around a lot, but within the same area that I grew up in, we moved six times during my childhood, that I can recall. And I have little to no attachment to those homes. Maybe it's because I stayed in the area. Maybe it's because they were family homes and not "my" home? Maybe I've gotten more sentimental with age. Whatever it is, I haven't slept at all in the past two weeks as we've finalized our moving plans and with each passing day I post-pone our packing, just a little longer, saying that I don't want to live in chaos. The truth is, I just don't want to see our home in boxes. I want to pack up the night before we leave and pretend it's not happening. It's hard to close this chapter of our lives and openly embrace this new chapter in Arizona. 

We've got our work cut out for us in the next few days. Packing up EVERYTHING. Taking all of our belongings down three flights of stairs. Arranging all of our boxes/furniture into a U-Haul trailer. Making the 8 hour drive to Phoenix, Arizona. Five more days. It's all becoming very real.

This apartment means so much to me. To us. It holds so many sweet memories. It was our first home.  It was the apartment that Garrison picked out on his own while I was still at EFY working my last summer there. Garrison calls it his, "first real test as a husband," I simply call it, "home." This is where I made my first meal for us as a married couple. This is where I first cried about not knowing how to make a meal. This is where we watched movies as a couple and had our first halloweens. I celebrated two birthdays here and so did Garrison. We celebrated our first two Christmases here. I took my first pregnancy test here. We were both sick here (as a couple). We both spent many hours/days inside of these walls as I was sick with what we later found out to be a malfunctioning IUD--summer of 2011 was spent mostly inside (for me). We studied for finals and Garrison spent hours upon hours at our counter studying for the LSAT in this apartment. We spent Easters and general conferences in here loving the life we'd created together. We got ready for graduation here and celebrated our accomplishments with cupcakes in the living room. We've decorated it for valentines day and had balloons and flowers for other special occasions. 

A house is so much more than four walls; it's where love resides. I had never before known the true feeling of "going home" before having my own place to call mine with Garrison. When I think of home I think of the comfort that this apartment has blessed me with. I think of the safety that embraces me when I walk through the door. I think there's no place like home, and right now that's apartment 302 in Provo, Utah. This apartment has housed so many of my emotions, our experiences, and trials, with such class. It's never given me more than I could handle, though at times I did think there were too many spiders (and larger ones at that). This apartment has quickly become home and after two years it seems as though there's no where else to call home but 302. I love it here.

I'll never forget when I first walked through the door with Garrison to "check it out,"the apartment seemed perfect. I was so grateful to have a fiance that listened to my requests, and met his as well. It was just what I had imagined, and more, for our "home." I didn't get to move in. But I remember helping Garrison arrange the furniture while I planned our wedding from across the country. It's taken a few trips to Ikea and thrift shops to get our home looking like a home and now we're boxing it up. I never thought I'd be as attached to a place as I am to this place that I call "home." I moved around a lot, but within the same area that I grew up in, we moved six times during my childhood, that I can recall. And I have little to no attachment to those homes. Maybe it's because I stayed in the area. Maybe it's because they were family homes and not "my" home? Maybe I've gotten more sentimental with age. Whatever it is, I haven't slept at all in the past two weeks as we've finalized our moving plans and with each passing day I post-pone our packing, just a little longer, saying that I don't want to live in chaos. The truth is, I just don't want to see our home in boxes. I want to pack up the night before we leave and pretend it's not happening. It's hard to close this chapter of our lives and openly embrace this new chapter in Arizona.