I stare at my backyard, the hole where the pool was, cluttered with toys, old plastic things half buried. I wonder how much fill will cost, how much it will cost to take down the old fence to get the fill in, put up a new fence. I see my garden, in the future, the garden I most likely will never have.
I turn into my house, see the peeling paint, the flooring coming up at the seams, the holes in the walls, the doors that don’t close.
It’s as if a dream slowly became a nightmare. Difference being, this was my dream, and I’ve never been able to keep it alive. Now, I barely skim the surface, and vainly hope I’ll make back what we spent 6 years ago.
My dream was a home with a porch, many windows, warm corners to read in through winter. Fresh squash and flowers. Sunlight.
I’m feeling it slip through my fingers, and frankly, all I find myself wanting to do is curl up and cry.
Another failure. Another something I can’t fix.
I’ve quite nearly given up. A friend was here and her husband, bless him, did all the man tasks he could in a few days, and was angered by the sheer negligence involved. That a husband would do nothing, just let the house fall down around, fall to pieces. I felt helpless and humiliated in the face of this, knowing I’ve been trying but not trying hard enough, not focused on my home, not focused on the things I need to get done.
But it’s so big. And I’m so alone with this, and while I can make my lists and start little projects, I feel like I’m pissing into the wind trying to stay dry. I couldn’t sell the place right now and make back what we need, but I can’t afford to do all the things that I need, not correctly. How I dream of just walking away from it all, leaving it behind, this dream, the quiet home I wanted, the one I still want but just cannot carry on my back alone.
I’m just not strong enough to do this by myself, not with kids and a job and my own needs and desires. I’m not strong enough to feel so fucking poor and unable.
I’m not strong enough to be the woman I know I need to be with this. Not right now.
Everything else in my life is heady and wonderful and scary, like a rollercoaster in all the best ways. I have a lover who makes me smile to my toes while my brain works overtime to keep up. I have two incredible kids who stop what they’re doing to tackle me with hugs, just when I’m at my wits end. I have family and friends who are always there when I need them.
But this one thing, this albatross on my neck, this house…it drains me. There are moments when I think “I can do this on my own!” and for a second, I really believe it.
But then I remember the toilet leaks and the pipe needs to be cut and replaced which means tearing up the bathroom floor to get at the pipe and I don’t have the money to gut the room like I want to and I worry that the floor will just fall through some day and I realize, I just can’t.
Sometimes, the hardest part of a dream is realizing you just aren’t ready for it yet.