Last night I slept here.  I am starting to have all kinds of thoughts about how I have lived in this house and how there is so little in it.

I was always told there is no money.

This was my uncle’s bed — I always wanted a California King like my brother had.  More room.

For years, a full size bed.

Now I am wondering about the money.  Where did it all go?

I don’t know.

It was never something we discussed after buying the house.  I just assumed that he was like my grandfather and knew what to do — head of household and all that.

So, today is appointment.

I’m not sure what has happened to me, here.

This kind of bed represents me and how I like to sleep.

Linens, books, bedside tables and so forth.

I’m looking around the house to see how I can reassemble myself.

Yesterday he took some books out.

This house needs paint.  It always came last.

I always came last.


I have spent nothing for years.  Nothing.

How did he do that?  How did he train me to think of myself as worthless?

All I ever did was bring things to him.

Any houses I ever live in in the future are going to be plush and comfortable — like I like my beds to be.

I wish I was buying a new mattress.  I will soon.  The linens cost me next to nothing.  I love linens.  The bed has these elements — and I hung up two paper lanterns and I am about to hang some sheer curtains later this afternoon.  One room at a time.  One day at a time.  Breathing.  Not hungry.  Going to try and eat a peach and a banana.

I am starting to realize how sad this is, how sad I have been in this marriage — all these years.

Whatever happens next will be happy again.  Happy for the rest of my life.

It will be.

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