Rantoul, IL. I know nothing about this place. I am in a house I have never lived in. I was at one point only a weekend visitor to this "home".
Old Military housing. Its is said that the plans for these got mixed up with the plans for the housing in California so they aren't the best in the winter. but great during the summer weather. A house set a little ways from the old military base it once served. now a practice field for the University of Illinois football team during pre-season two-a-days.
I'm having a hard time breathing. I don't know were anything goes. I'm a stranger to this house as it is a stranger to me. Like that person you might see ever few years, you know the face but the name will never come to mind. This should be easy, but actually its really hard to wrap my head around.
After all of my things were packed into the room further from the cluster of rooms just to the right of the stairs I felt a little sick. Not sick of what was going on, but sick from how I got to this point. When I would visit from my "busy" city life I would use this as my "getaway" but now I have turned it around. I go to Chicago to get away from that feeling of a small ass fish bowl, where everyone is looking at me as if I have two heads.I may have moved back into my parents home, but its not my home, not yet anyway. Will ever really be mine? If it became "comfort zone" approved, how long would it before it all was gone.
'Home is where the Heart is"
If that is a true quote I wish I would have moved home about last spring then, because where I lay my head at night doesn't have my heart anymore. My heart is where laughter is, the monthly, sometimes weekly date nights. the inside jokes. seeing the smile on her face, and the welcome home kisses.What did it turn into?
Silence...
-Sometime getting what you asked for, is not always a good thing for you, or those around you.
Those who know me, know I hate silence. those who know me, know that I love them as if I was a 5 year old little girl. I hate where this is going. I hate where I might just end up between them. I have two roommates who don't talk to each other anymore. Every time I talk to one I feel like I might be stabbing the other in the back. Its not like we are exchanging information. Its like I am the Berlin Wall. No, I will not play the messenger for either. but I will not feel guilty for wanting to be with either of them.
I have always been a good judge of relationships that did not involve me. (Ask about myself and I will be like a deer inn headlights) ever since I was little I could watch two people interact with each other and know how it would end up. She never hid anything from me, some say she should have. I have seen her heart break and I have seen her happy. He is a brick wall, even to his offspring at times. Very private. what ever interaction he has its between him and those he has it at that time, no outsiders allowed.
He is like that elite club you long to have some type of connection with rather true or forced. I can count on one hand how many times he has cried and I don't even need to use all 5 fingers. I will never say a man will not have reason to shed a tear or two, or will he ever be less of a man. Just because he is mean, doesn't mean he's absent of any feelings. but that fact that I can't read what you are thinking or feeling automatically doesn't mean I don't care to know what is going on in your head.
I look like a very pale version of him.I was told recently I act just like him. I don't see this as a bad thing, but I know how he is or, how I assume he is and I hope I got the good things from him. I love him. and I want very much for them to love like they may or not have ever before.
Life behind the walls of a home are nothing but private opportunity to improve your day to day life outside those same walls.
*Hidden Post 1.
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