Forever January

The Finn has put our house up for sale. I found the listing for it on-line. Part of me feels sad. Granted, I left that house over two years ago and haven’t stepped foot in it since … but there is a fraction of me that feels sad that in a few months, it will forever be a part of my past and I’ll never be able to go back.

I must let go of the past. I loved my home dearly, poured my heart and soul into making it my own little nest. Since leaving it, I have never put my mark on any place I’ve inhabited (and there have been a few) for fear that I’ll just have to let go of this nest like I had to let go of the first one. I am like a cat — I become attached to my house, making it an extension of my soul.

I said a long time ago I ended that chapter in my life, and now this is truly becoming so. Those little strings, little notions of one day returning — they’re slipping into the dark abyss, to float among the stardust of yesterday. I must keep moving forward and not look back.

I must let go.