I will think of this as remodeling;this shift that has come into my neat square little comfy life. This isn’t breaking, it’s fixing. Like an old farm house that has shifted,this routine that we shared had cracks in the ceiling, swollen window frames and doors that wouldn’t shut.  We tried repainting but that never fixed the cracks, it merely covered them poorly so that a faint divide remained beneath the semi-gloss.  The shifts became so hard to ignore that we started avoiding whole rooms; living in our separate corners so that our house became a duplex of sorts.  We were beyond Spackle.  This dream had to be torn down.  Now it is time to rebuild.  Not completely.  Not from the ground up.  I know myself more now.  There are original pieces that I want to remain untouched in this reconstruction.  Doorknobs and moldings that have become unique and that some day someone new may fall in love with.  No renters this time though.  No more heartless damage or stolen property or scuffed baseboards that have to be sanded and repaired for the next tragedy.  I think I deserve more than to be treated as a temporary solution.  

(Source: writeoneleaf)