Just over 12 years and 2 months ago, Christopher Jones was having a lie down on this couch, waiting for me to show up. He didn’t have any pants on; he quickly threw a blanket over him when I poked my head in the cracked open front door, surprising him. I stepped away quickly, blushing while he grabbed his jeans and made himself presentable.

This couch is in the same place it was then. Even though it’s been rearranged a few times in the living room, it’s back against the NE corner of the living room.

I’m having my own lie down on the couch right now (with pants on, thankyouverymuch) as this is, like the former owner of the house was experiencing, the last time I’ll be enjoying this piece of furniture.

It’s been here for more than 12 years under my ownership, part of the grand package of furniture I inherited when I bought this house, and who knows how long before that. The tags don’t give any indication of a production date.

It has a subtle texture, small rectangles patterned on the khaki upholstery. It has tall side arms and just the right amount of depth for sitting.

It’s seen ski movie nights, boyfriends, post-first date emotions, lonely holidays, knee surgery recovery, family visits, a baby shower, Christmas cookie parties, swipes on Tinder with two of my best guy friends next to me, parties for no reason other than my tenant and I were in our early 30s and single, been a host of the Snowpoclypse House of Refugees parties, a crash pad for city friends before we headed west to the Olympics, glitter under the cushions when tutus were sewn, squeezed 5 people on there for a movie, snuggled a small 2.5 YO while we watched cars for the 87th time, some hard line editing, where I tried not to die of heat exhaustion, home of accent cushions made by my mother, where I was nearly proposed to, late nights where I turned on some pretty terrible off-cable TV, where I decided to gamble everything last summer and move forward even though I wasn’t sure if my heart was ready to but knew that this was a chance I needed to take…

It is also a fantastic napping couch. You don’t sink into it like some overstuffed couches, but it is hard to get off it after a long evening of binge-watching Parks and Rec.

It still holds its shape and feels like it was purchased yesterday.

And, in 10 minutes, it will move on to its next chapter, with my tenant downstairs. There is a weird comfort in knowing it will stay on the property, at least for now, giving another woman a place of comfort and feeling of safety, much like it did for me the past 12 years.