Homes

Someone sold my house. Not the house I live in, but the house I wanted to buy. I am not in the market for buying a house really, but everytime I drove past this one house I just knew I had to have it. I never called the owner to look at it because I didn't want to do something crazy and try and buy it, but that I claimed it was my house. I saw the house once in the paper for sale and it was listing for $147,000 but I am positive I could have talked them down to $139. It had been on the market for at least eight months. I would drive past it and make comments like, "someone needs to mow my house's lawn," and, "the roses need trimed." I had a sick obsession with this house. I got really scared one day a few months back because I thought someone else had bought the house. I almost cried. Mike came home a few days ago and said, "I think someone bought your house. There were people taking boxes inside." I did cry that time. Damn houses.

The first apartment I lived in never felt like home. It was the first place I lived besides my parents house, and I could feel the lack of stability in the air; which could have just been animosity and tension because of who lived there, which is an entirely different story.

The next house I lived in was a disaster. It was an old duplex with hardwood floors throughout the entire place, minus Lindsay's room, and bugs loved it. I never unpacked my suitecases. it was the least home-like place I have ever lived.

My next apartment was my first home. It still feels like my home. I sometimes think that if I go up to the door and open it, all my stuff will still be there just I had never even left. I drive past it every so often just to see if someone else is living in it; and I am almost positive no one is. If I could move back into it, I would in a heartbeat. I loved that place.

I have lived in my current house for a little over a year. I like this place a lot. It has a ton of potential and I wish I could buy it most days. If I could, I know I would. It feels like home, but only because I think I need a sense of home right now. Everyone needs to feel like they belong somewhere, and even though I may be tricking myself into 'belonging' here, it works for the time being.

Mike and I went on a quick overnight camping excurssion a few days ago and had a great time enjoying the quiet. I forget how much I love to hear nothing sometimes. I am so used to hearing and listening to people constantly, that I almost cried when I could lay down at night and hear nothing but a few crickets.

I haven't been camping since I lived with my parents while I was still in high school, so it has been quite a while. We didn't stay long, but the few days of rest was well worth it. The only down side was my lack of sunscreen use that has turned into a nasty sunburn. I should have listened to my mom!

The sunburn is healing rather quickly though, and I miss the quiet.