My realtor called me this morning to tell me that we would not be able buy the house we wanted. The seller received two bids this weekend — one from us — and went with the other buyer. I called my husband in tears.
It’s not just the frustration of having to start over. Or the sting of rejection. Or the time and energy we now have to put into finding another house that fits our criteria and budget. It’s the heartbreak of losing a home that I was really in love with.
I tried not to fall in love. I really did. I knew there was no guarantee they would accept our offer. I knew that nothing was set in stone and that things fall through sometimes. This wasn’t just the first house we’d bid on: it was the first house we looked at! But fall in love I did. I scrolled through photos online, showed them to our friends and family, surfed the internet for decorating ideas, spent a whole weekend watching HGTV, and even began referring to it as “our” house, “our” backyard, “my” kitchen.
The first moment I decided it was “ours” we’d spent the whole day looking at houses and narrowed it to two. On paper, they were the same house. Three bedroom, two bath. Same area, same utilities, same layout. The only difference was that the second was $5,000 more and out of our price range. We took another look at the first one. I tried to imagine myself living there: now I’m making lunch. Now I’m watching TV. Now I’m getting out of the shower. I walked into one of the bedrooms. Now I’m getting the kids up… and then, I cried. Not sobbing, just a little misty. I could imagine raising my kids here, and that was it.
I was in love.
I could kick myself. How could I fall head over heels for a house that wasn’t even mine? How could I not protect my heart? But how many times have we all said that to ourselves? I think back to old boyfriends and how many times I’ve been in love and let down. Was it worth it? Oh hell yeah. Because I learned from each experience, just like I’m learning from this one. We now have a better idea of what kind of home we want for ourselves and our family. We know how the process works and which questions to ask. I’ll risk the heartbreak and fall in love again because, really, who wants to buy a house they don’t love? That’s like getting engaged to someone you haven’t given your heart to, just in case it doesn’t work out.
Today I had my heart broken. But it was worth it.