I don't seem to be able to understand the fact that this house will no longer be part of my life. That once we leave this house, it'll cease to exist. It's been my home for too long.
Home is where the heart is, and my heart's been here too long. If I live to be 80 I would've approximately spent one third of my life in this house.
I'm acting as if we're only going on a long vacation. That I'll come back home, drag my suitcase up the stairs (while apologising to the plants for having been away for so long), go to my room, take my shoes off and walk on my soft blue carpet, then fall on my bed. But this house will no longer be here after we leave it. I won't be able to come back home again, my home won't be here.
This really really hurts, you won't believe how excruciatingly painful this is.