I Am Home

I am home.

I am home.

This is where my heart is...mixed in with all the muck of the past. In the corner sit the ghosts, unrelenting. At the table, my steely determination three years ago to begin again alone. My ideas and my tears live here. It is my home and, love it or hate it, it is what makes sense.

Yet, I begin to pack. I refuse to regret because such potential lies ahead. Without L here tonight, I am reminded that I want to be where he is going to be. I am reminded that as long as we are together, it won't really matter where I am. Truth and yet I pack with a knowing that I am cheating. I am cheating because I am already planning for the day when I will get to return.

I shall live on an island in this province and I shall run my own company that makes me an excellent income. I will be my own boss with the ocean in my front yard, a forest in my backyard and the smell of wet bark year around. This is where I am going to end up, soon.

But the past is just a story and the future, my imagination. Both powerful, but non-existent. Tonight I will crawl into my very own bed for my last month of days and cover myself up with a gloop made of ideas and tears that has been painted on these walls. The smell of insecticide will remind me that I survived and the empty half of the bed will remind me that, not only did I survive, but I came out on top.

The rest is just boxes and packing tape.