The house is brand spanking new. No one has ever slept in it, ate in it, or used the bathrooms except us. There is not a mark on any wall, floor or ceiling. The appliances were hand-picked by us to suit our needs exactly. They are beautiful, pristine, and completely unused by anyone but us.
The neighborhood is brand spanking new. One small street with a handful of houses on it. The second day there, we saw a moose 50 yards away, and have continued to see it at least once a week. There are deer and coyotes everywhere. It's quiet at night. It would be quiet all day, except for construction noises around the corner. People say 'hi', and 'good morning' to us with big smiles, as they exit their own pristine new houses. They seem happy, but I wonder if they are.
Because... I'm not. Which is the weirdest thing in the world. I should be... I know I should be. I'm not missing the old house. Thank god we are gone from there. I am glad to be close to my sister and the inlaws now. We've seen both more times since being here than all of last year. I should feel priviledged, I DO feel priviledged. Very few people in my family have owned a brand new house. Some will never own a house, period. Yet.... yet I want to lay down, hide my head, and cry.
I feel more distant from SO in this house, and I can't figure out why. It's leading to feelings of loneliness which I can't explain. Not like, buyer's remorse depression, but like, I am alone in the world. I feel like...I am back in the military, when I lived in the Q in my own little room. It's hard to explain, even to myself.
Hopefully it will go away. Far away. So I can appreciate this time in my life.
No comments:
Post a Comment