Trying to find anything..

The house is empty. And dead silent. And I have a couple bags packed with my clothes sitting in the middle of my perfectly clean room. I love it when it's this clean. When every thing's all nice, and well put together. But then I feel like I don't belong in it since I'm the opposite.

My Dad and Susan should be home soon, and then I'll be telling them that my brothers on his way. I just got back from Portland with Avieta and I haven't seen my dad all day. To be honest, I know this is really weird of me. Doing this right now. But it's because of the whole idea I thought about on the way home. This whole idea of stepping back and letting things settle down.

I think this will be good for the both of us.
I love staying at davids house. I'm always so comfortable there. And I'm so close with him and Alyssa. David never got along with me when we lived at the old house. I didn't really know him. And I really like that I know him now. I really want to be able to say I was close with my brothers before we all move on with our lives. This is just a little bit of an escape. What I really want to do, is go to my moms house for a while. Stay there to get away from things. But it's too far, and I'd miss school, and it wouldn't work..

I don't know. Its gonna be really weird leaving the house with all of my stuff. Because even though I know I'm just leaving for a while, it really feels like I'm leaving forever. He won't understand the timing of this, because we have been doing okay lately. But I guess this is a good time to leave also. Because while we're getting along, I want to leave, so I don't ruin it, all over again. But I have a feeling that when I come home, it's still not going to feel like home like I want it to. I will never feel the feeling of home like I did at my old house. I will never love, or feel as much love from a house like I did at my old one. I miss the play room, and the perfect front yard with the big tree. Whenever I think about my house I have the strongest memories from the summer. I remember Justin always being over and I was happier than ever with a freezer full of otterpops, the trampoline, and some water guns. I just remember the heat, and the scent of sunscreen, the scent of water on the hot cement. We'd bring tons of blankets and sleeping bags at night and sleep on the trampoline. And I remember that night I saw about seven shooting stars while laying out there. And I had never seen any before then. It just felt good laying out there and looking up for so long and being perfectly warm in the middle of the night and feeling so safe in my backyard. It's a ton of tiny memories that I hold close to me from that house on Luella street. I loved living right next door to my aunt and uncle. And when they had their two daughters Claire and Anne they basically became two little sisters to me. You don't find that often, family living right next door to each other. I loved the tree fort, and the hotub, and the green green grass, and how perfectly clean the house always was. The balcony that looked down on our well put together living room, with our piano and nice furniture. I loved the upstairs because it was just me and my brothers up there, like a separate apartment or something. My dad rarely ever came up there. I didn't just love that house because it was nice, but because it held so many memories. Because that's where I grew up. I loved it because it was about a two minute walking distance from my middle school, and because my best friend lived one street down. I mean, it really doesn't get much better than that. I had the perfect life. The life I want back every single day. I dream about that house a lot. At least a couple times a week. No exaggeration. I don't know why I dream about it so much. I can never let it go. But all I know is when I wake up, I realize more and more how this house I'm in now, is not a home.

"You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you're in isn't really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place where you can put your shit that idea of home is gone."

"I still feel at home in my house.."

"You'll see when you move out. It just sort of happens one day, one day and it's just gone. And you can never get it back. It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I don't know maybe it's like this right of passage, you know? You won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for you kids, for the family you start. It's like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place."

It's depressing to think home is something I constantly avoid now..