this is where we used to live...

In 1998, I moved to New Orleans to be closer to my then-fiance, future ex-husband, Blake. We rented half of a shot-gun apartment on Camp Street-- an apartment that is just a block and a half from my current home. It was a bit run-down, but we loved it. Invested in a paint-job for every room-- yellows and sages and blues we eventually used again in the house we bought after we married-- and new linolium floors for the bath and kitchen. We even tried to buy the Camp Street house at one point, wanting to steal it away from the neglect of its current landlord, but we found that it was locked up in an ugly inheritance battle. We moved out when we bought our house, and soon after that our neighbors also moved. For the past four or so years, the house has remained empty. Last week, I was forced to detour down Camp from Magazine. Crews were trimming trees or fixing powerlines, I don't remember which. And when I passed the old apartment, my first home in New Orleans, I saw it in ruins. The roof and the floor a sandwich for everything within. The outer wall on "our side" of the house leaning up against the house next door. Today I went by to say goodbye. Obviously demolition crews have been at work. It's no longer even recognizable as a home, except for the foundation and the front steps. I'd hoped to take a pirate turn and steal away some small piece of the structure-- a bit of moulding or a sliver of the stained glass attic window-- but everything worth keeping has already been salvaged. A man and his three boys played basketball in the driveway across the street. He said "Hi" and I said "Hi" and then "This is where I used to live-- a long time ago, not now of course." He just shook his head, didn't respond except for a sad smile.

I haven't lived in that house for five years, but I still feel as though I've lost something. We were married while we lived in that house. That's the only house that my family has visited. The last time my grandparents traveled together was to visit us one Christmas, where we celebrated at that house. We got our first dog at that house. It feels so silly to be so nostalgic about a place that has absolutely nothing to do with the life that I now live.