When I was going through my divorce ... I was told by more than one person that it would take a year or more to recover. I didn't say anything at the time ... but I secretly thought ... what a load of horse shit. It wasn't going to take me a year ... I was already recovering and I hadn't even signed the paperwork yet!
It's been right around seven months since everything was finalized ... and this weekend I had a bit of an epiphany. I watched a movie in the living room for the first time in over a year. I spent time a lot of time downstairs this weekend and realized how much I missed it. I miss relaxing on the couch ... candles burning ... curling up with a quilt ... the smell of dinner cooking.
If I'm being honest with myself, for over a year I avoided being downstairs. Everything bad happened downstairs. I created this little oasis of happiness up in my room ... in what was essentially a big ol' house full of fail. This weekend ... for the first time in over a year ... I felt comfortable.
It helps having Stoney over. Twice now we've hung out on the couch just listening to music and talking. And I'm finding the more we do that ... the more I feel like I'm taking back my space. I'm recording over all that bad ... and making new memories. Happy memories.
I've just about got the living room back to livable. The only thing missing right now is cable. Comcast accidentally disconnected service from that room last year ... but they're scheduled to fix that on Friday. There are lots of other things I need to do. The piano hasn't been tuned since I was a teenager ... so I'm taking care of that on Friday as well.
Yes ... the walls need painting. And yes ... I need to have new carpet put down. But even so it feels like home. And it hasn't felt like home in a long, long time ...
Going no where
Guitar packed in the trunk
Somewhere round mile marker 112
Papa started hummin' the funk
I gotta jones in my bones before we know
We were singing this melody
Stop the car pulled out the guitar
Halfway to New Orleans
Said take me home
Take me home
Mark Broussard - Home