You can look it up for yourself.
I’m thinking of selling our Punk Rock House. It’s been over 644 days since my baby left me. I’ve been away from here a lot, even took a trip to Mexico. That place in Shawshank Redemption. If my punker were still here I’d be talking him into moving right back there. Tamales, poncho and fresh seafood served in shacks on the beach. Goddamn beautiful.
I’ll list the house but probably won’t sell it. I want too much for it. There’s been too much passionate work poured into the place. It’s almost too good to sell, but it’s not the same here now without him. I thought his essence was here and how could I leave that comfort? But the reality is his essence is within me and he goes where I go. I’ve lost my desire to be here anymore. For about a year it was a safe place for me to grieve and wrap myself in his most familiar places. I was alone too much. I’m lonely all the time even when I’m not alone. My life has to lighten or I’ll just fade off. I look forward to fading off back to him but Its not now. I still have a big story to write about us.
I’m trying hard to purge the house in anticipation of putting the house on the market. Frankly I’ve been doing that now for about a year and I got stuck. I moved a lot of furniture out a while back. It seems like I’ve been surrounded by containers of our life forever. I get stuck on the memories. It makes me sad and happy. So I hired an organizer. So far so good.
But I have a hard time giving up anything where I have a memory about it. I’ve come up with an idea to pass on things and the memory to random people in the family. My memory bank should not be wasted. I really should have been documenting this along the way. I can go back later and get a recall from the I-pad. Best thing ever invented.