Love For Sale.

You can say things a million times, “I’m a winner, I’m a winner, I’m a winner” but words are not the same as feeling the actual emotion. “I’m leaving, I’m leaving, I’m leaving.” It’s so easy to say. Just rolls right off the tongue. It was even easy to do at first…to take a step out of the door. I stayed a close distance and enjoyed the breeze and hearing the birds sing. A taste of freedom and a breath of fresh air. As long as that door was cracked, I was okay. I pondered returning inside a few times, after all there is no place like home but each time I was reminded that beyond the manicured dusted blinds and beautifully carved door that there was much more than the Better Homes and Gardens image let on. The paint had begun to chip off the walls, the furniture was in need of shampooing, the carpets had seen better days and the old pictures that had once been so amiable were now dusty and lacked all but nostalgia. From the outside, it’s worth a million bucks but beyond the doorstep it was barely worth renovating. Time had taken its toll on the structure, the lack of caring and neglect for maintaining quality was almost painful to look at. In its prime it was beautiful, it was worth envying but now it was worth little more than a sympathetic nod. To think that things can be so beautiful and then end up being so broken is incredibly painful. In the end when people walk past it they note its fading glamour then shake their heads and walk away. People don’t realize it was once so glorious; no one thinks back to the past.Sometimes I can’t help but live there. In my head at times it’s still the wondrous mansion it once was, ready for guests, begging to be admired but then as the fog clears I can see the over grown grass and cracks trailing up the bricks from the foundation. Letting go is never easy. There’s the urge to do it all over, to paint the dining room red, to pull up the carpet and lay down fresh hardwood floors. That won’t fix the foundation though. It may hide the cracks but in the end the floors still creak and the walls are still shifting. An outsider may say, “Why sell it? It has so much potential.” But I suppose that’s easier said than done, they are not putting out the cash to have the house leveled, to have the floors redone. There is a point where it’s just not worth working on because in the end no one wins, you just get further in debt. Then what would I have to show? A pretty exterior? If the house is still unlevel and the foundation is still cracked then all I’m living in is a lie. Something that is pretty for people to look at from the outside but they’re not having to live in it. They are not having to hear the constant creaking or having to slam doors because the frame is now off. It’s not fair to expect someone to live somewhere when they’re unhappy, where no matter how much work they do there is just one problem followed by another. You can replace a door knob and then turn around and the basement is flooded. Along the road there are a many for sale signs, the occasional foreclosure and then there are houses being renovated and flooding with happiness, with graciousness for being offered a second chance. I’ve made my improvements over the years; I have brought up the property value. I have poured blood and sweat into making things picture perfect. But now all I have is defeat. I’m leaving, I’m leaving, I’m leaving. As I glance behind me I see the blackness that falls between the door and the door frame get smaller as the door is being closed completely, I jump a little as I hear it finally slam shut. I can feel my heart ache as I try to take one last mental picture of the home I am leaving behind. I walk out in the yard, hammer and sign in hand and with every ounce of energy I have left I help the picketed sign break the dry ground. For sale is stamped in bold letters. Perhaps what had once made me so happy would eventually make someone else the same way. There was just nothing left there for me. So down the sidewalk I stroll, enjoying the air, enjoying the calm. Coming to terms with the ache, knowing that I would once again find a beautiful house that would welcome me and this homelessness wouldn’t last forever.