A long week

It feels like the same day lived in from beginning to end. I feel better, then, bad again. My headaches, my body hurts, and the moment before I catch sleep, my lungs sink deeper with gravity. I feel alone. I feel sad. and I am filled with longing to be loved by my mother.

Renton

We moved to Washington in five days. We sold so many sentimental objects. Our first bed. Our first couch. The table. My now pregnant body yearns to be cradled by the generous give of our old couch.

Our Renton apartment currently looks like it has been robbed. Empty boxes strewn chaotically across the floor with packing peanuts drifting aimlessly with the wind coming from the windows facing south. We have more amenities. less places to go. more money. less ways to spend. more oxygen. but less reasons to walk.

I am alone. The feeling feels big as it is empty. My former outlined in dotted chalk against the black grain of driveway. So many things are missing and cannot be replaced. The skyscrapers. The lakeshore path. The smelly Broadway. Bobtails ice cream parlor. Initially, it felt numb to let go so quickly of the things we grew to love. Isabel still relishes ice cream. But, does she miss the cookies and creme from Bobtails?

We moved for a better life. A better way to live. I haven't given it enough chances to become better. But, I'm so sad for the great life we had formerly. The one against the skyline, the lakeside, the museums and parks. The silence is peaceful and lonely. This is the beginning.