To the Person Who Robbed Me of This Breathtaking Saco, Maine Condo

Dear Person,

I don't know you and you don't know me. I have a feeling that you may be the woman that I saw walking out of what is now your brand new condo when I went to a showing of this absolutely breathtaking, gorgeous place in Saco last week, but I can't be sure.

But if you are the woman that I think you are, it makes complete sense to me why you spent so much time at the property, both walking out of your showing a couple of minutes late and also still standing in the driveway area after I walked out of my showing and pulled out, knowing full well that I was going to put an offer in later that evening.

And that's exactly what I did. After my 10-hour-long workday that included a 2-hour commute back home to where I currently live (which is why I'm trying to move closer to our studios in the first place), I then spent hours going through paperwork, signing off on over 100-pages of literature I had to read, and officially put my offer in just after 11p last Friday evening.

I followed my realtor's advice and put in what we felt was a pretty competitive offer, which, when all was said and done, the seller's realtor told mine that "it was a beautiful offer." I felt confident in it. You know that feeling when you have something on the line and you just feel it in your bones that it's going to work out for you?

I had that feeling. And I spent the whole weekend trying to manifest it into becoming reality. Meanwhile, you spent the whole weekend probably already knowing what the outcome would be, because you knew what your move was going to be the entire time.

An all-cash offer.

How do I even compete with that? That's like Jack looking up at the Giant as he approaches the beanstalk, and the Giant just looking down, smugly laughing, flicking the beanstalk down and just stomping on Jack. Game over, End of show. Fini.

Cash is King, we all know that. I spent that whole weekend imagining the gatherings I'd be able to have in that condo. What would have been my condo. I pictured my friends sitting on the stools at the breakfast bar, joking around over dinner and cocktails or brunch and bloody marys and mimosas while putting my chef skills on display.

I thought of having friends over for game nights, movie nights or Pats games, gathered around the TV with the natural light flowing right into the living room. I manifested being out on the balcony on a weekend morning sipping on coffee while my dog, Remy, sprawled out next to me just taking in the sun and fresh air.

That's what I spent my entire weekend doing, while you spent yours knowing that my reality wouldn't be anywhere close to that. Because when cash is involved, it all becomes a pipe dream.

And quite honestly, anonymous person, I'm not even mad at you. In fact, I respect the hell out of you. Your new condo is exactly the type of place where you pull that kind of power move on if you're able. If I had any semblance of a chance to do that, you can 100% bet I would've. And the shoe would've been on the other foot, and you would've been writing this letter to me.

All that said, anonymous, at the end of the day -- this just wasn't meant to be my place. It was meant to be yours. So, congratulations and good luck. I hope that place is as amazing to you as I would have been amazing to it. I hope you make some incredible memories that last you a lifetime.

And, selfishly, I hope that I get to bask in the glory of having an offer I put in accepted on a place just as gorgeous -- that same glory that you're basking in right now. Treat 'er right, anonymous.