You can't stop now, its already begun.

I felt an odd sensation today, while I was eating breakfast. I had returned to my home to pick up a few things before I started today's adventures, when I noticed something. . . 

This. . . was not my house.

Ok, so, it WAS my house, but I didn't live there anymore. All the things that made our home ours were gone. Our furniture, our belongings, the art on the walls, even the smell of home, it was all gone. I think I mentioned before that as a military brat, I've had the experience of constantly moving every couple of years, so this sensation was something that I had felt before, and I knew how to deal with it. Knew. Past tense. It feels different this time. Because even though we've already moved out, we're going to be moving back. . . 

I've visited old homes of mine, and its always an interesting experience. So, explain this to me; the idea came up for us to move into my sister's place as soon as its finished, and possibly just stay in that apartment permanently. She would move off to do bigger and better things with her life, and we would let our lives return to normal. Our apartments are identical, only mirrored. There really isn't going to be that much of a difference, especially after the remodels are finished. But the idea of staying in what would formerly be my sister's home made me feel weird, and I don't know if I would ever be able to consider it a home.

Even now, the place I have lived in for the past two years will no longer be the same. The bright and colorful walls will be replaced with something a little more tame. My obnoxious countertops will be replaced with who knows what, (really, anything would be better than what it was). The floors will all be the same. There will be new designs everywhere, and though its a good thing, I'm a sucker for nostalgia. 

About 9 years ago when we were moving from North Dakota to the California desert, we had to make sure our home was the way it was when we got it. I had light green and blue sponge painted walls, and I loved them. I remember when we had to paint over them to plain white, and I still stayed in that room for a while. I felt like my creativity was destroyed because my environment was different. I felt the same when my odd deep sea foam green walls were replaced with a muddy yellow when we were leaving New Mexico. Don't ask me why I felt this, I'm tired.

It really was all I had for today. This mopey feeling of emptiness, no longer seeing home as home. Having to start all over just to go back and pretend it never happened. 

I don't know, it was profound at the time.

As I sat there

In my empty home

Staring at the destroyed walls

Alone