In Which Our Heroine Is Embarrassed.

You know what the problem with taking risks is?

Sometimes they don’t pay off.

I took a chance and wrote about how I had finally found this house, “MY” house, and I knew it was meant for me and I wanted it and it was mine.

Except that it wasn’t.

Because they didn’t accept my (perfect) offer. My agent suspects a cash offer, which will always win out over a financed one–the seller can close in just a few days.

It was heartbreaking, which sounds dramatic, because, let’s be honest: it’s only a house.  And I understand that there are much worse things in life than not getting the house you want.  Except that it wasn’t just a house: it was the prayer that my life could be changed. So many goals and dreams are on hold, just waiting for the chance to become reality, waiting for the space. So when I read that sad sad email, I felt so drained. That’s the problem with expectations, with putting yourself out there. So many motivational speakers (and a few of my favorite bloggers) like to talk about seizing chances and opportunities and MAKING your dreams a reality, “only you have the power”, blah blah blah. Except that in this world, you cannot force someone to help you with the things you cannot do on your own. I could not force the sellers to accept my offer, I cannot force the perfect house onto the market, and I cannot force my savings account to grow quicker (paychecks only come twice a month, slice). You just have to take a shot at it and put yourself out there and hope it pays off.

Perhaps “risk” isn’t the right word for it, though. Because honestly, what did I have to lose? Only my pride, really. This is the FIFTH offer I’ve put out there, and still, no house to show for it. I’m embarrassed that I blogged about this place and was rejected. I hate telling my agent to write an offer for somewhere, because each time I’ve done it, it hasn’t worked out and I’m beginning to feel like the girl who will say ‘yes’ to anything. But, I didn’t lose any money, and the time wasn’t really wasted. My heart is a little bruised, but it’ll bounce back.

So here I am, back at square one, still looking. I “know” that the right house will come along, that it’ll be the right time and everything will work out. Everyone tells me this, and for the most part I believe them. It’s simply hard to relinquish the hold you have on the dream of something.

I know I’m not alone in this: there are people who have spent years trying to make their dreams come true: a spouse, a family, a job, a degree, equal rights–dreams that have yet to come to fruition. Dreams on hold, or worse: dreams that died. It’s a condition of our humanity, that we do not always get what we want. (Yes, I’m singing it too) But that does not stop us from hoping, does not stop us from fighting and working and praying. I believe it’ll happen for me one day, I believe I have to keep working and searching for it. But today, it sucks. I can accept that, live in this moment that just sucks, and then move forward. It’s the not-giving-up that’s most important.

This weekend, I’ll keep scouring the internets. In between derby bootcamps, I’ll bore Jon with listings, and bug Shane (agent) about when we can go see a house. I’ll write another post on another house, and one day, this blog can record what it’s like to pass an inspection, close on a house, and begin the process of moving in and creating a peaceful space around myself.

Until then, I’ll try to keep this place clean.

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