Let’s just say that I had this grand plan to wash and re-caulk my roof, so I could get rid of the tarp and never look back. Summer 2018 was obviously one full of foolishness... cleaning the roof of your trailer is hard!

Aaaand here’s the seating opportunity!

According to the books I read, in 4 days I should be ready to forget you. 60 days, that was the deal. 60 days of no contact, no talking, no seeing you to return your stuff.  I look at the blue sparkly key that still hangs on my kitchen cabinet - the key that leads to you. Most night I wish so badly that I could still use it, unlock the door and quietly pad down the hallway, open the door to your room and slide under the warm blankets with you, and feel you wrap your arms around me.

In 56  days, I’ve done nothing but grit my teeth, and refuse to reach out to you - to beg you, to try and remind you. But - 

of what?

It’s day 56 and I still have to remind myself everytime, that I am here, without you, because that’s how you wanted it.

I’ve been so bad about keeping my tiny house updates coming - so get ready!

I’m making shelves for the ugly corner! And I’m hoping I can stop calling it that soon. No one wants to be called ugly.

By “making the shelves” I actually mean a dear friend/construction-enabler is making them.

Broken toe or not - I can never resist a project! Especially when the alternative is school work.

So I moved the cork board, and loaded the storage bin with all my tools, and soonish I’ll take it to the garage...

I have this ugly corner in my living room which is the bane of my existence.

Since breaking my toe and being reduced to a slow hobble in all things, I just sit on my sofa for hours.... staring at it.

My gym bag is there because I’m sitting where it usually sits. The bin is there because I was going to put all my tools and things in it, then banish it to the garage. And that ugly looking cork board?

Well, last winter it covered my big window to hide the insulation, to keep in the warmth.

This winter I’m going to do something else, I’m just not sure what just yet.

Unsure of if it’s forgiveness or indifference

Numbness after years of OKs

It’s that lonely feeling, and being disappointed by everyone that was supposed to care for you

you look behind you to the place you said you wouldn’t go back to

And there it is, a black hole filled with fears and disappointments- the darkest place you’ve ever been.

It beckons with its warm black arms, to come home, come back where you belong. There are no surprises here. Everyone will let you down. Everyone lies. Everyone leaves, but not I.

Come back into my arms, curl up in my lap, no light will get in through the darkness I have for you. No light, no uncertainty, no disappointment.

No one else, no life, no joy, no hope.