I'm really trying to be excited about our new place. I don't plan on having to move again anytime soon, so I want to actually be happy where I am. The problem is, I just can't seem to. It works. It is a roof over our head. It is not falling down around us. There is a bedroom for each of us, and two bathrooms.
But it's not what I want. After almost having what I want, it is hard to go back.
I don't have room for chickens. I'll never have them, and it's time I resign myself to that fact. There isn't room for the garden that I want. I'm not even sure when I'll even be able to put in a garden at all. But what bothers me the most is that it is not a house geared toward having company over; Especially not the way we've had to set it up to make it work for our family dynamic. I will never really have anyone over for dinner. There is a park across the street that we can play in, and next summer when the weather is nice again we can barbeque outside, but there is no room inside for me to host any gatherings. I'm not even planning a get-together for my birthday, because I simply don't have anywhere to put the people (nor the money to feed and entertain them, but that's another sob-fest).
I really want to be happy where I am. I berate myself constantly for not doing so. I need to learn to appreciate what I have, acknowledge that I have so much more than some others, blah blah blah. Does my selfishness make me a horrible person? Probably. Does the acknowledgement of that change anything? Not even a little. They say that home is where the heart is. My heart isn't here. I don't know know where it is, to be honest.
But I try.
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