If We Were Houses

I've been building a place to call home.

For the longest time, I didn't care for my house at all because I was sure he was coming.  So I waited by the window for him, using only about a quarter of the house.  "I know it's not ideal, but once he comes, then I'll put money down and we'll renovate together," I reasoned.  I looked out for him day and night.  Waiting.  Waiting, I thought, quite patiently.  For years.  Until it slowly dawned on me that perhaps there wasn't anyone coming.  That I had to live in this big ol' house.  Alone.

And I cried.  All those years wasted.

Finally, I stopped crying.  I rubbed my eyes and looked around.  Time to get to work.  I took sheets off the furniture and faced what lay underneath.  I found books I had forgotten I had bought.  And clothes that begged to be worn.  Lots of items saved for rainy days that would never come.

Slowly, I've come to accept this house.  There are original artworks, films, and lots of books.  Usually it's quiet.  It's a little cluttered and I'm sorry to say that it will probably never be perfectly tidy.  Believe me I tried.  I have friends over and they tell me that it is absolutely charming and that whoever the buyer is will be very lucky indeed.  I smile, but inside I don't expect anything.  For he's not coming at all or he is extremely late.  I won't get my hopes up again.

What?  No prospects?  You must be kidding!  Well then, you must have an open house!  Lower your asking price!  Toss in some of the amenities for free.  We must find you a buyer at once!  This poor house is going to waste.  Have you considered going online with it?

But it's my  house and it's still in development.  I don't want to sell it to anyone who just tosses numbers in the air.  Not someone who's just shopping for a good deal or a house-flipper.

I've never been much of a salesperson.  Some men want to barge right in without an invitation.  They tap the peephole and try to stare through the withdrawn curtains.   They keep commenting about how nice it looks.  Or they walk around the block and stare at it, but make no effort to even walk up to the porch.  Hoping maybe I'll see and open the door for them and they can just waltz right in like it's already theirs.  Well sirs, you'll be standing out there for a really long time then.  Because I'm not showing you a house when you won't even made an inquiry or introduction.

No, I want to sell it to someone with long-term vision.  A man who admires the craftsmanship and can articulate why he wants this particular house as opposed to all the others on the block before he comes a knockin' at my door.

Not someone who stupidly says, "Golly this house is a beaut.  I'd love to live here!"  I'm waiting for someone who sees the existing house yes, but also sees it as a foundation for something better that he can build upon.  Someone who might say, "Sorry.  I've been staring.  I've just been admiring your house.  You see, I want to knock down these walls and build a ______.  And start a garden in the back.  And I know this might be forward, but have you ever considered _______?  I think it could turn out really nicely."

Someone who can help me look at the house for all it's infinite possibilities and be excited about it.  Who's patient and generous.  Who says, "Now, I won't move in just yet.  I can see you've put in a lot of time into your house so I don't want to barge right in and say you should change this or that.  But how about we try this?  Cuz I'm gonna make you love this house more than you ever thought you could."

P.S. I wrote this in 2013