I just fell apart, not quite sure why. You see I’m stuck living in the house of my parents, an old guy who should have his own life and especially his own home, but this is my only place of refuge from my troubled world.
My mother died about a month ago. Since then it has been all this activity but now it’s just me, alone, here, where both my parents living out the end of their lives. Going through their stuff, finding photo albums, find pictures of me at < 1YO, with them. Now they are no more and I’m here, alone.
How has my life come to this. Once I was self-sufficient, with my own life, friends, purpose, recreations, my own house (still pay the bills on “my” house) – the standard life. I said I feel like I’m homeless. I own two houses but neither are mine and I just live here because it’s available. I had a home once, in California, the place I chose to be. But like my parents, like my purpose in life, it’s all gone now. I can’t be that little boy in all those pictures I keep finding. He’s dead too, just some husk keeps on breathing.