suckage

Posted February 8th, 2006 by Michelle

Never in my life have I wept over a home. We moved what seemed like a hundred times, although it was more like twenty, but I never wept over a house, and I rarely even wept over a friend.

But tonight, I weep. I weep like a little girl whose dad never came to pick her up, not for twenty years. I’m an utter fucking mess because the little cottage I’ve called home for almost two years must be vacated in thirty days. The details don’t matter; what matters is that my little home, these tiny five rooms, my tomato garden, my swing, my tiny slice of peace in this world is being ripped from me and I feel like I’m losing my best friend. Or that I’m in the middle of a long, rolling earthquake during which everything that is stable is going to shudder and fall apart.

I’m reacting so strongly for a number of reasons- this may be have been one of the most difficult days of my entire professional career- but also, it’s just awful, this feeling that I’ll have to leave the first place that EVER felt like home. And it certainly doesn’t help that I’m on my third glass of wine and I’m reasonably sure that the bottle is destined for recycling within the hour. I’m at an utter loss. I don’t want to leave my home. I don’t want to leave my writing nook, my swing in the sunshine, the earth I tended so carefully to make it bear such beautiful fruit last summer, the porch where Fezzik has made his napping home, hell, I don’t even want to leave all the spiders and the absolute lack of storage space. I don’t want to leave my home, but I have to, within 30 days.

I guess I should be thankful for the almost two years that I got to pay next to nothing for a beautiful little place that helped nurse me back to health. And I’m the one that keeps insisting that every firmly closed door leads to one swinging wide open. But this sucks ass.