realizations

I've come to realize that I hate being in this house.
I hate looking at everything in it.
I hate seeing the holes in the walls, the cracks in the solid wooden doors.
I hate seeing the results of "us" here.

I've become more anxious to get the hell out of here.
Every Sunday (and some days in between) I seek a place to call "home".
Week after week, I barely find any to call on...let alone visit.
Found 2.
Lost both.

I'm ready to get out of here to a place where he doesn't know where the scissors are.
Where he doesn't feel it's his right to walk around and do as he pleases.
I need MY OWN place now.

I just haven't found it.
That frustrates me more and more.

Spinning wheels

ALL the stupid time.

I just want one stupid thing to work.

One thing that will give me and my sons some real security.

We need a home.