Home

back at the 'rents house. I've come a conclusion about my living situation at the moment. I have two house, but no home.

I'd be a big liar if I ever told you that I felt a sense of comfort and security here, at what I've now decided to call my parents house. It's always been where I've lived, but I've always been moving around, room to room, trying to find my place. I've covered the walls with pictures, posters, and paintings, trying to claim the space to myself, but after a while I always tire of it and take it all down. I've always just assumed that this my natural for me, that I was restless by nature and always needed change in my life.

I've found that to be wrong, however. While I'm at Brandon's house I feel comfortable. Like I'm where I should be, no matter what. I sleep well on the futon, I sleep well in his bed. It feels like my own damn house, after 3 months. Before now even. It's always kinda felt right, ya know?

Unfortunatly I don't live there. He needs time away from me, and my belongings remain here. I don't live there. It can't be my home. I want it to be my home. I hope that some day we learn to work out our problems and have our own separate time in a way that doesn't require me to leave for a day or two. Cuz I don't like it here.

Much Love