There is this house downtown, an old, abandoned house that is my second favorite house here. Whenever I see it my mind begins to tell me tales of the stories of those who may have lived there. When I first moved here, it was inhabited. Now it has �no trespassing� signs and is in obvious stages of abandonment. I wish that house could be mine. It is right downtown surrounded by adobe houses, and really it is fairly unique for here in the old wood frame style it is.
I snatched a google image of it:
I would have a writing room, and the yard has enough room for chickens. I imagine that the floors and stairs creak. I imagine the kitchen with old cupboards, a large basin style sink, and clawfoot tubs in the bathrooms.
Everything in the house is covered in white sheets, I am sure. I imagine so many wonderful things in that hoouse, if only it could be mine.
Today after 5 weeks of my boyfriend making my weekends stressful, as much or more so than home, I actually thought to myself: 'I really hate being around him', and I started to tear up.
My problem is this:
I am agoraphobic, severely so
I am not easy to accept, as I can do very little
I am getting older
This town is very small and mostly types of people I do not like: lower class Hispanics with no education or upper class Hispanics and whites with a lot of prejudices.
I have not a single real friend here. No one includes me, ever. Even if they promise to.
I have no life outside of my boyfriend
I cannot handle isolation, I will be guaranteed to kill myself not just feel so, if I ever lose the last two people in my life
My boyfriend and my mom are the sole two people who are in my life. I have no one else despite 8 years of trying.
I think of my once grand �endless possibilities� and I have no idea what happened. I cannot afford to go to the college I wanted to go to. I will run out of financial aid with 20 credits to go if I go for the writing degree, I cannot do that or even risk it.
I am isolated. I am afraid. I am relapsing. I am stressed by college. I am getting fat. I am tired.
Not much has changed since I was 11. I have a boyfriend whose temper I fear. We do not have everything I need together, and I got tired if asking and having him give excuses. But I have no way of meeting anyone new. Does your soul begin to crumble when you settle for what you have because you fear having worse or returning to what little you had before?
I guess I am about to find out.
~e