I just moved out of my family home of 18 years 10 days ago. I caved in to my wife's insistence I leave even though we made an agreement to stay together in our house until my son goes to college next September. This is a long story but in my struggles to adapt to being a one person home, I, who ran the the kitchen in our family home, and was used to shopping and stocking for a family of four plus all the friends who come by unannounced. Well, now it's me and occasionally a single visitor. Did anyone else notice during this transition that the markets in the suburbs just don't cater to singles?. Every fucking thing is large size and will spoil before I use it. Who knew? Also it's odd how quickly my old house, which I still own and pay for, feels like I don't belong. I feel like a stranger every time if walk in. And, I mostly decorated it, picked paint colors, planted the garden, hung pictures, curtains,etc, etc. it's very strange. Today I was home from work and I needed to go get some things. When I went into my house I felt like a burglar. Who knew? My 17 year old son came over the other night with two friends; I'm sure one of them is gay, by the way. Cooked up a feast but it's never spontaneous. It has to be planned. Well. Max my dog and best friend spent two nights here. He got into bed with me (yeah, someone wants to go to bed with me) and snuggled up real close. Mans best friend. So a plug for my Lesbian landladies. They can't cook for shit but they're boss at fixing. They have all the right tools. Who knew? Goodnight my friends.
Hey Arturo! It's nice to hear from you again...welcome to the single life. Let's call it "purgatory", but it's not an antechamber to hell, rather it's the way to freedom...yeah, there's discomfort, loneliness, alienation from your past life, but there's also possibility now, an opportunity for something new...you'll find some goodness here in purgatory...who knew?
I've been out of the house for a month and know what you mean about feeling like a stranger in your own home. Every time I put my key in the door when I drop off the kids, I feel like I should knock. But then I think, it's still my house, she's the one who asked me to leave, why shouldn't I let myself in...so I unlock the door. Her latest thing is banning me from entering the bedroom (which is still full of a lot of my stuff). She apparently needs a place where she doesn't have to even see me when I'm there. It's tough, but necessary I guess.
"So a plug for my Lesbian landladies. They can't cook for shit but they're boss at fixing. They have all the right tools. Who knew?" So cook for them. Cook n freeze stuff so your ready if someone stops by.
