Tonight is the first time that I feel lonely ... and I don't like being in my own house. I've been writing here about the slow transition ... from feeling like a guest at Stoney's house ... to feeling like a visitor ... to feeling comfortable.
Don't get me wrong, it still feels like I'm using his things and cooking in his kitchen and what not. And that's the way it should be because it is his house. But being there feels good. Doing laundry at his house ... watching Shameless while I'm folding clothes on the bed ... cleaning up the dinner mess ... painting the mailbox ... whatever. It feels good.
So ... after work, there I was ... driving back to my house. One of our friends is back in town for a few days, so Stoney had the guys all over for football tonight ... and I have lots of work left to do over here. So we decided this week I'd just concentrate on my house, getting boxes packed, and getting things ready to move.
Ugh, but I can't lie ... coming back here was depressing. The house is lonely and quiet ... the night breezes carry the sound of drunks screaming at one another. His neighborhood is peaceful and his neighbors are friendly. Everybody's walking dogs or bicycling or planning community garage sales. Over here, they're standing on porches yelling over who owes who money ... and who should go on the next beer run.
I've got to wrap everything up here so I can be done with it. I miss him ... but that's alright. Because if I miss him? That just means I'll pack faster.
I always catch my breath
And I'm still standing here
And you're miles away
And I'm wonderin' why you left
And there's a storm that's raging
Through my frozen heart tonight
John Waite - Missing You
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