I didn't cry at the closing, although I thought I would. I did cry earlier, though, when I was taking my last pictures and making a farewell video. At first, I was dry-eyed through this as well, but at some point, I guess it finally dawned on me that it was the last time the house was mine.
It was really odd to see the house empty again. I'd forgotten how it felt and looked without my stuff everywhere. I'd been in the process of depersonalizing the house--painting over my bright, fun colors with neutrals, replacing my raspberry curtains with burgundy and beige, etc. But even with the fun gone, it still felt mostly like my house as long as my things were there.
With everything gone, well, it really did feel like someone else's home.
