We get a literal knife in our heart when we drive past our old home, or when we step inside it (our other friends live there now). Sometimes we go stand in our old bedrooms. Or go sit in the bathroom together and cry like we used to do in real life. Just...joking.
When living together, we were never happier than on the nights we stayed home, lying on the couch complaining about the August heat instead of enjoying the outdoors like the rest of the population. We didn't care though, because we had our comfy red sofa, our Celebrity Rehab, our (beloved) yogurt and granola. Our life in the old blue house.
We lived next door to an older couple that, prettty much right off the bat, we decided we didn't like. This provided us with an endless amount of entertainment, as it was incredibly easy to talk shit about them for hours. Oh My God, one of us would say dramatically while walking in the door. Neighbor is working on his fence again. Will he ever stop? What more does he need to do to his ugly white fence? You would have thought he was doing the most offensive thing in the world.