Trying to come to terms with our van journey being officially over.

I know we were so lucky to ever have gotten the opportunity to travel and live like this in the first place, and we are lucky a million other ways. But I'm just... pretty majorly bummed out.

It doesn't make sense to sit on a valuable asset like our tiny house when our mid-to-long-term plan doesn't see us leaving this house for probably another year.

But having been a full-time nomad in the big world
(in our cozy home), selling feels like getting trapped.

We meant to spend the next six months finishing the trip, finding closure, seeing the country, so that we could then happily buckle down into long-term stability and marriage and kids. I honestly think I'd have been tired of the road by then, ready to nest in one place again.

But I wasn't ready in March. And I don't feel at all ready now. Are those other long-term plans even going to happen? I don't know.

Given what's happening to everyone else this is such a ridiculous complaint that I haven't decided if I'm even posting this thread for real yet.

People are sick, and people have died, and more people will die, and being on the road means we could be infected or, worse, be vectors for disease into vulnerable communities. Here we have a lot of medical resources, but our plan would take us places that don't.

So, the smart thing to do is sell the van (it's a great RV market right now, it will go in a flash) and become sessile organisms. Put down roots, anchor ourselves. Weave new stories or tangled metaphors that make me less sad. We're so lucky.