Lifestyle

Dear Future Tenant

Dear Future Tenant

Dear Future Tenant,

After two amazing years, my time living in 5B is up. The time has finally come for me to leave Horatio Street, say goodbye to this version of a house that became a home, and move on to what’s next. I’ve boxed my belongings and packed up my memories along with me, to leave you with a fresh space – a space as empty of clutter as it is full with promise. As I give you the key to make this place your own, for however long you decide to stay, I have just a few thoughts to share as I close the door behind me, one last time:

Apartment 5B is a special place – a few hundred square feet of charm, comfort, delight, frustration, celebration, hassle, surprise, and discovery, all wrapped up together. As confusing as that description sounds, I’m sure you’ll understand what I mean soon enough.

For starters, 5B looks new and young with its freshly painted walls, marble counter tops, and wooden finishes, but it was built decades ago. Its spirit and soul are rooted in the past, infusing the space with nostalgic charm and timeworn comfort, if you look through its cracks. And its cracks are just the beginning:

5B

There’s a small scrape on the wall next to the bedroom and a little hole in the wall in the kitchen. In the top right corner of the rug lives a slight stain, and the towel hook in the bathroom loosens if you give it a generous tug. If your landlord were to read this letter, I’d be probably be in big trouble, and I apologize for the “damages” – but the reason I’m sharing these flaws with you is to try and express all that 5B was for me:

I made that scrape on the wall by my bedroom when I ripped off a “Happy Birthday!” banner, peeling off some white paint right along with it. A few friends and I threw our best friend Alex a surprise party for her 24th birthday and decorated the apartment with streamers, confetti, and party hats scattered everywhere. She was so surprised that I’d say the scrape was worth it.

The hole in the wall came from the chalkboard that my dad and I nailed and hammered in during my first week in 5B. I was so excited about the chalkboard at the time that I didn’t even consider the exposed space it would leave when I’d have to remove it one day. But now that I think about it, the hole in the wall where my chalkboard once hung kind of filled a void that I used to feel within myself. I moved into this apartment alone, but the chalkboard provided all who visited a surface on which they could scribble and draw and laugh and express themselves, to write funny messages, and make me feel a little less alone as a result.

The stain on the rug is from a red wine spill that I tried to clean and scrub out – unsuccessfully, as though it seems. (Just put a little plant over it and you won’t even notice it’s there). I got my first job out of college that day and had my close group of friends over to celebrate. We ordered pizza from Rubirosa and popped open some Cabernet. A glass led to a bottle, and soon enough, we were singing and dancing around the apartment and, well, had a little accident.

The loose towel hook hanging out from the wall in the bathroom is just old. Maybe I hung too many towels on it at once and misjudged its sturdiness. Who knows.

I’m sorry for leaving 5B with some wear and tear, but the reckless optimist in me would like to think that I left the apartment more worn in than worn out for you – with each scratch and scrape making the space more personable, and even human.

I hope the marks I’ve made here inspire you to leave your own.

Horatio Street

Flaws aside – 5B is an extraordinary place to stay, but beyond that, to live, in every essence of the word. The apartment gave me a space to call my own, to reflect, rejoice, question, flourish, exhale, dream, take chances, and comprehend all that was going on at the time.

When I moved in, my life was in limbo. I was going through some pretty big changes, and I didn’t know what to expect out of my new home. But with every walk up and down those five flights of stairs that led to my apartment – (yes, five flights, get ready) – I felt as though I was making strides towards some sort of progress and further understanding about the person I am and the life I’ve chosen to live. 5B helped me do that; let it do the same for you. Cherish the safe haven that it is, and allow yourself to be whoever it is you want to be in there and beyond its doorstep.

I hope you take the moments to kick your feet up on the stools in front of the couch, graze the exposed brick wall with your fingers, open the window and gaze out to the Freedom Tower beaming proudly in the distance, pull out the glass vase in the cupboard above the stove and fill it with flowers, and look into the mirror mounted on the wall, and see yourself every so often. Sometimes it’s easy to lose ourselves in this city.

One thing I will say though, is that you’ll seldom feel lost on Horatio Street. Whenever I’d enter or leave the building, the cobblestone street and the trees would remind me that I have a place to call my own and a place where I belong – in this crazy city, and in this crazy life.

West 12th Street

Now that I’m writing this letter to you, I realize how much I love that place, and how much I’m going to miss it. It’s difficult for me to let go of somewhere that represents such a big chapter of my life – but that chapter has ended, and it’s time for me to turn the page anew.

So, dear future tenant, take care of 5B for me. Enjoy it, embrace it, give it life again, make your own marks, and thank it – for the space and the home it will provide you with, to write your next chapter.

With that, I wish you all the best.

Welcome home…

 

Sincerely,

Daniel

 

 

 

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