It’s different for most other people. It’s an annoyance. It’s a lot of work. A lot of money.

I see it in their face when I tell them. They cannot comprehend why there are tears in my eyes.

A different person, a different year, a different life . . . I would feel the same as them. I would have the same confusion as they do. It shouldn’t be that big a deal. But for me, it is. It’s soul crushing.

I was told this week that our lease would not be renewed. Nothing against us, mother-in-law, blah blah blah. The reason why doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I have to move.

I have to really move. I have to leave the little community I’ve called home for 7 years. I have to give up walking to work. No more big freezer (the 24 hour grocery store 50 feet from my door).

When Michael and I broke up, I got “custody” of our community. I left our condo, but I refused to leave the location. When I first moved in, it felt like destiny. I found this place. It was mine. Moving out of our condo was made so much easier because I didn’t have to leave the community. It was infinitely easier on my heart.

It’s too much. The last 9 months are too much. Too much loss. Too much change. Too much pain.

I just want to stand still for a minute.

I want to feel a moment of comfort or safety or security.

I am exhausted. Bone weary. Every time I start to feel OK, something else changes, someone else leaves, everything breaks.

I miss the days when I could say to people “Nothing new. I’m boring. Same ole, same ole”

Every year I think “Finally. Finally there will be a year of calm, a year of happy” and every year (for YEARS now) I’m wrong.

I’m wrong.

I’m tired.

I’m homeless.

I’m back at the beginning. Again.