#dreamspacechronicles

📍Chestnut Ridge – Home Lot 💔 #DreamspaceChronicles #BreakupsAndBlooming #ChoosingMyself

Eliza came over again today.

At first, I thought maybe we’d talk about dinner plans. A second date. More time. But what we ended up talking about was something far deeper. And harder.

She’s married. To Bob. I didn’t know. She never hid it exactly—but she didn’t say it either. Not until now.

And in that moment, everything shifted. Because I’m not here for a fling. I’m not building a half-life. I’m building a home. A future. A place where love puts down roots, not just petals.

So I told her. Gently. Clearly. That I need something real. Something whole. And that if she couldn’t choose me fully, I couldn’t be the halfway girl in someone else’s story.

She understood. She didn’t get angry. She said she enjoyed our time, that she does care for me—and she wants to stay friends. That was more than I expected, and maybe more than I deserved.

Still, it stings. Loss always does, even when it’s the right thing.

Tonight I watered my plants with a little more reverence. Painted with heavier strokes. Let Grace curl into my lap without brushing her away. Held Monet’s leash a little tighter on our walk. Let the quiet be.

Because I am not broken. I am becoming. And I know—when the right love comes, They will want to build beside me. Not borrow my warmth and go.

So tomorrow I begin again. And I will not stop dreaming.

📍Chestnut Ridge – Home Lot 🛋️ #DreamspaceChronicles #HeartsInProgress #LivingRoomDreams

Tonight, I gave Eliza the keys to my cottage. It’s humble—half-gabled, mostly hand-built, cluttered with pet fur and paint tubes. But it’s mine. And I wanted her to feel welcome in it.

She didn’t flinch. She looked around like the creaking walls were charming, like Sweepy was an old friend, like Grace and Monet were royalty (which, fair). She smiled. Said, “It’s you. I love it.”

And then—we stopped dancing around it. We let the tension melt into something warm and real. We kissed. We WooHoo’d. It was soft and good and maybe… important.

But afterward, while I dozed in the afterglow of it all, she left. It was late. Maybe that’s all it was. But I watched the door longer than I needed to. Just in case it opened again.

Still, I don’t regret a thing.

She is kind. She is here. Maybe not in every moment, but in the ways that matter. And I’m learning that love doesn’t always mean permanence. Sometimes it just means presence, and permission to be yourself.

Next goal: A living room. Somewhere soft to sit with the people I care about. Somewhere to share tea and silence and stormy nights without words. A space that invites someone to stay.

📍San Myshuno – Spice Festival 🖼️ #DreamspaceChronicles #ElizaWatch #KissLikeACanon

Eliza asked me on a date. I said yes. Of course I said yes. She’s kind. She’s quirky. She talks to my cat like it’s perfectly normal and listens to my garden rants like I’m reading gospel. This… might be something.

We waited until the timing felt right. A Friday evening. A festival full of music, warmth, and—best of all—free plants. That’s how you win me, really. Offer me basil and fireworks.

Spice Festival was everything: 🌶️ Failed the spicy curry challenge together (RIP, internal organs). 🎶 Danced to street music like no one was watching. 💋 And then—our first kiss. Right there in the swirl of people and lanternlight. It felt like spark meets spice meets home.

Earlier that day: ✨ Painted my first masterpiece. Sold it for 1,125 simoleons! ✨ Bought a robot vacuum. Named it “Sweepy.” It has declared war on the dust bunnies. ✨ Almost finished saving for a proper bedroom. The dream of walls, windows, and cozy sheets is within reach.

I’m tired. Full. Flushed with curry heat and affection. The world feels a little more vivid tonight.

I came here to survive. Now I think I’m beginning to live.

📍San Myshuno & Home Lot 🌿 #DreamspaceChronicles #CozyHermitVibes #NotTodayHijinks

Eliza stopped by again today. Invited me to the Humor and Hijinks Festival. I smiled, nodded politely… and then wandered off to talk to my valerian. Sorry, Eliza. But the mandrake tells better jokes.

Decided to feed my own whims and took myself to the museum instead. I needed quiet. Color. A little perspective in oil on canvas. Met Marcel Price while admiring a collection of modern still lifes. He seems kind. Soft-voiced. Noticed that my shirt was stained with paint and didn’t comment. That’s how you know someone’s decent.

Also snagged some city posters and a snow globe that someone left unattended. I am not above a little urban foraging. They’ll go nicely in the future writing nook.

The big win? Finally have a kitchen. Nothing fancy—just an outdoor setup with a stove and a counter—but it cooks real food and doesn’t hum like an angry cooler. That’s enough for now.

The house is still in fragments. But it’s starting to hum with life.

And honestly? So am I.

🪞 Entry Seven: A Flame and a Thief 📍Chestnut Ridge & Town Square 🐾 #DreamspaceChronicles #SimSelfSaga #StolenShowerSyndrome

Started like any other day. Harvested the prairie grass. Watered every root. Fed the animals. Painted something gentle and sold it to a local. Scooped Grace’s sacred sand. The rhythm of living.

But today unraveled like a loose thread in a favorite sweater.

The good: ✨ Got a raise at work. Bought a shower. Felt like a goddess with hot water and ambition. ✨ Grace got sick, so we took her to the vet. I had her spayed while we were there—no more surprises for my old queen. ✨ Monet and I went wandering in the town square after. That’s when it happened.

A toddler was crying, alone by a fountain. Monet spotted them first, tugging my sleeve. I knelt, offered a soft hello. We stayed until the parent came. The child smiled again. I called that a win.

The bad: I came home. Fell asleep under a sky finally kind.

And then— A burglar. A literal thief in the night.

They stole my brand new camp shower. The archway I built with my own hands. The cat’s litter box. The pet food bowl.

Who steals from the animals!?

I confronted him—brave, barefoot, furious—and called the police. But the damage was done. The raise I’d hoped to save for a real bathroom? Gone. Spent on replacing the basics, just to keep Grace and Monet fed, warm, and okay.

No walls yet. No bath. But we are still here. Together. Safe. And I will build again.

Because that’s what you do, right? You plant again after the storm. You paint again after loss. You light the candle again, even if it’s just a single spark in a too-dark night.

📍Chestnut Ridge – Home Lot 💧 #InflatableLuxury #ToiletTearsOfJoy #DreamspaceChronicles

Built my first cottage today. Half-gabled roof, half-hoped-it-wouldn’t-collapse. It’s not much, but it has a door that closes and windows that let in just enough light to feel like magic when it hits the floor.

Traded paint and prairie stones for an inflatable bed, a lantern, and—hallelujah—a toilet. Never thought I'd get misty-eyed over plumbing, but here we are.

It rained this afternoon, just enough for a free rinse and a moment of peace. Monet chased water droplets. Grace pretended she didn’t care but kept dry under the eaves.

The animals are fed. The house isn’t leaking (much). And the land… the land feels ready. Tomorrow we dig. We plant. We begin to feed the Dreamspace back.

She’s giving me quiet gifts. And I am learning how to listen.