Well, I have the house. As a matter of fact, I'll have owned my house for 3 months now. Despite some miniscule imperfections, it's entirely perfect. My little holler house. Yet, it's missing furniture.
That's not to say I don't have a couch, television bed and so on. But rather, it's missing core people to surround myself with. Dad's arrogant and hot headed, we're like oil and fire. Mom never grew up and is a solidified pick me girl. I used to have a sizable group of friends before the Opioid Epedemic hit. Of course, there's also a couple of past loves that would be great to still know. One in particular I know would have hoed the parameter of the house and have planted a beautiful garden. I wish I'd payed her more attention, and hsd shown a more wholesome love.
It's all just purgatory, not damnnation, but closer to paradise. But my only hope for the latter.
To sum it up I told a co-worker, "it's all lost dogs, and mixed blessings."
