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  • This is my new house.

    Just kidding.

    But that's pretty much how it feels when I'm here alone.

    Only three more nights until I travel to Texas to retrieve my fiancee and bring her back to this place. Our dream home. Or the closest approximation of a dream home we can afford to rent right now.

    But these will be three long nights.

    I am not afraid of being alone. I'm not afraid of ghosts or burglars or psychopaths. It's not that simple. I'm afraid of the feeling of loneliness. That's what scares the shit out of me.

    When I'm alone, my cinematic mind goes through 28 years of backlogged memories and selects happy moments at random to compile into melancholy montages. Melancholy because I know how life works now and how everything must end and how even the happiest moments of life become shaded blue as we realize they were just drops of water in the ocean and once added to the mix of memories they can never be experience again exactly the same way.

    They are unique and that is a terrible thing.
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