... So I'm still packing... but I needed to take a second to really 'feel' what I'm feeling...
Yes, these walls are just a shelter... but what secrets have their service held? When it's just you and the walls... what do you whisper... How have the plaster and paint watched you grow? Die? Really live?
... The picture above will seem like two holes in bathroom plaster and a broken towel rod to everyone... But to me, they hold a story. These holes are from passionate repose... a moment of temporary insanity when I felt like the strength of those screws could withstand the full force of my pull as I vied for leverage to show my love... take that to mean what you will... but we see who won the battle...
... Within these walls I taught my daughter to read...Dressed her for her first day of school... Fell in love... spent countless nights with the love of my life... lost him.... watched the death of our love as it wilted behind his eyes...
... The paint smells of him... faintly... somewhere well beneath the human sense of smell... He lingers in my carpet... he exists w/ me here... in this space... our love and what was real 'once upon a time'... is still lives here... in these fibers...between these studs...
... By this time next week, I'll be in a new place... new paint... new carpet... no memories there for me... only new adventures to be had... and here... new carpet will be rolled and tacked... new paint slathered over old... shredded and thrown to the trash-heap will be my secrets... My love... My past...
....
