I’ve been thinking lately that I may have contradicted myself without realizing it.
I’ve been parading this blog as that of a homeless couple. No, we don’t have a house. No, we don’t have somewhere we can call our own, and we live paycheck to paycheck for now. I mentioned in one of my other posts about how a house is not a home. Your home is where your heart is.
Eric is my best friend. He’s the one I always want to be with. He’s always been there for me and he only wants the best for me. I don’t know where I went right; Eric is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. One minute we’re lying in bed competing to see how high we can blow tissues off our faces, the next, he’s telling me I’m beautiful and leaving me speechless.
Eric is my home and I’m his. We are all we’ve got. We’re not homeless; we’re house-less/apartment-less/ camper-less.
Please don’t take my calling ourselves homeless as me saying “ugh, I can’t believe the awesome people who have let us stay with them are being so nice. Get me out of this hell of niceness.” No, I’m beyond grateful for where we are right now. If the friends we’re staying with now hadn’t offered to take us in we truly would be homeless. We’d be living in our car or something.
I can’t think of how to thank our hosts, that’s why I’m so nervous to do anything in their house.
Okay, okay, that doesn’t explain my complaints about their insulation issues, but hey, heat doesn’t work for me. I’m basically a different person when I’m hot. I’m a winter person, but I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t find SOMEthing to complain about.
There are my midnight ramblings. I’m going to sleep now.