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Friday was the day they tore down the house.
I won't look in that direction until they've done what they wanted, but it really hurts. All over a house. The same house we all grew up in, where everyone, no matter the relation, has a memory. I'm not happy. I won't ever be. Not about this. I think about the countless memories I have of being in there, from every angle at every time of day. I won't ever see from those places again. Ever since we moved, I have found myself thinking, 'this is a place I'm only going to see in my dreams from now on.' It might be stupid, but I started tearing up, just from typing this. Amazingly, a coffee mug was spared despite the demolition, and found in the rubble.

Now this is something dumb and unimportant:

So the MP3 player I bought last year, jumbled all the songs into a new order. Honestly I don't use it much, so it still takes me by surprise where some songs are. What made me have to laugh, is that the poetry recordings he made for me are on there as well. The Crowbirds/Mockingbars one came on, and I went ahead and listened to it, feeling wistful. Then 'Something About Us' came on. Like, really?

Also, I got ready to drive home the other night, only for a fraking horse to be in the street, on the tracks. rofl