Falling in Love Again, Again

When It Comes To Real Estate, The Gloves Come Off

I am a serial house lover.

I fall for them deep and hard, insisting that this is the one, citing not location or number of bedrooms, but Kismet.

The fact that I have now fallen in love with a house and I am telling you to listen to me, this time, this is the one! calls to mind the tale of The Boy Who Cried Wolf, about the shepherd who kept rousing the village with his cries of wolf that turned out to be fake, then was shit out of luck when an actual wolf showed up.

But the fact is, this house is The One, or rather, was The One.

I’ll take you back to the beginning.

On Realtor.com (yes, I have switched from Zillow; I find Realtor.com more informative and user-friendly) son Jake alerted me to this place in Roxbury, Connecticut, a town we’ve identified as our favorite in Litchfield County. It was in our price range. It had forested acreage, stone walls, and a rustic mid-century vibe. Under the listing photo were the words “coming soon”. There weren’t pictures of the inside at first, so when they came up, we got even more enthusiastic. I was going to see it the first day it was available to be shown, this past Friday, but waited until Saturday, so Sam could see it with me.

Before seeing it, Sam and I saw another house in Bridgewater, the next town over, which was more expensive, on a busier street, and smelled like moldy laundry and stale farts. We were prepared to see this place and find something not visible on the website that would make it repulsive. But when we drove up, it was like a hush fell. Our future vacation home, from our dreams to before our eyes, cedar and glass set on a quiet street with a stream and swimming pond in the backyard.

Sam played it cool, and I played it like a lovestruck drama queen on coke. Sam showed his interest by asking smart questions and examining the mechanicals. I showed mine by screaming every ten seconds oh my god oh my god I love this so much! When we got back into the car, we agreed to make an offer as soon as we got home, which was when the realtor called to say that a strong offer had already been made and accepted. I literally felt my heart drop.

Nevertheless, we were encouraged to make a back-up offer, which we have. It is a great offer, enough to make the owners change their minds about accepting the first offer, which I gather is illegal. I hate to hope that the other offer falls apart, because I like to think I’m a kind person, but I do hope it falls apart. I’m thinking a sudden change of heart, or something turning up on inspection that would be a deal breaker for them, but we’d be fine with.

I wrote a note to the owners about how much we loved the house. It was good. When I read it over, it made me cry.

I am consoled by thinking that whatever happens, we’ve done our best. I have a sneaking suspicion that this buyer was already in the wings, and we were doomed from the start. But while we are waiting it out, my most ardent prayer is that for the stars to align, for I believe this home is our destiny. On a more practical note, I’m also praying that their mortgage application gets denied.