At the worst of times, I came across this picture of a messy apartment. For whatever reason, it gave me the feeling of a home. At the time, this was what I wanted. A place of my own. A place where I didn't have to answer to anyone and could come and go as I please. A place where nothing else mattered.
Then, there was no way I could have a place of my own, but at least there was a place out there that I knew I could always go to if there was an extreme need.
This picture came to mind again these few days. Perhaps the need to get out has always been in my mind. It's just a matter of whether or not I do it. Financially, it's definitely possible now.
The truth is...I'd rather everything be solved in a different way than for me to have to make this move.
But...as time goes by...the more I feel this is a choice I will have to make.
Why does it have to be this way?
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