closing doors.....

Willacy.


Is.



SOLD! SOLD! SOLD! SOLD!


I have one month to find a place to live and move our butts outta here. Please don't ask me where I'm going because I simply do not know.

All I do know for certain is that doors are closing. Big, heavy, burdensome doors. Like medieval prison doors. Those big heavy suckers that you need three barbarians to close. You know, the ones with the iron all over them. Those ones. And actually, I'm not just shutting them, I'm bolting them. With shackles and big medieval bolts that need gigantic medieval keys to unlock that took a medieval blacksmith a year to make because, who are we kidding, he certainly had the time.

I feel as though I have finally been released from prison and been given permission to walk away from the unhappiest time in my life.

So this is me. Walking away. Letting go of things I wanted so badly but feel like the cost to receive them was too high. An astronomical cost my family might end up paying with our stability, our happiness, our togetherness. So there was only one choice to make. Walk away. This is me saying good bye.

Good bye Willacy.

This is a good thing. Or it will be eventually because it can only go one way from here.

Up.

Time to find and open some new doors. Maybe some lighter doors.