The Naked House

Nothing hurts like a naked, stripped house. A house I spent so many of my summers in, even winters. I remember going for a swim in the freezing swimming pool and daring my sister to jump in first then push her. So many sunsets at the mountain top I took for granted. And somehow, at that moment, I realized it was my last sunset there. I didn't try to fight the tears that started streaming down my cheeks, even though they pinched my skin cold as the wind blew my hair everywhere. His presence was crucial. I would have cried much more had he not have been there by my side in that old rusty swing, holding my hand. And still the emptiness that filled me was hard to obscure. An almost empty house was the one we walked back into, and the dog that would be left behind (or given away?) was there for me to look at with pained eyes as I noticed that I never petted him enough before. "You don't know what you got till it's gone" hurts like a bitch. I wish I could take him with me on my journey away, and as I looked at his puppy face I thought he wished it too. I wish I had sneaked more food for him under the table. I wish I had gone for more walks and trails. I wish I had taken more pictures. I wish I had sunbathed more. I wish so many things that I never knew I had in me that it scared me into thinking I lost a piece of myself in that house, and now that we were leaving I didn't have any more time to look for it. All I knew as I said goodbye, was that I was crying again for a piece of my history that will never be forgotten; those memories from that painting-worthy sunlit day are all I can take with me now. The memories of that now naked house.

Shots, boots and other stories

This moving-and-getting-married thing is tougher than I thought. I've recently learned that I need several shots to be able to be accepted by the government into the country. Out of these I've taken two, with the result of a light fever and a lot of pressure pain in my left arm, which in turn left me lazy to go to kung fu due to the pain it causes me. Bummer. Although I did manage to manipulate my beloved into giving me a pair of shoes for each new hole the doctors manage to poke in me. Ha-ha. I feel better already.

I am a little exasperated, nonetheless, because of all this visa work. I mean, it shouldn't be so hard for two people that love each other to be together, you know?? Are they trying to avoid "racial" mix, by trying to force people to be apart? As in "there is nothing you can't find in america" or "there sure is someone else for you closer to home"? It is not fair, and it is bound to take a while for my visa to be expedited. I am losing patience. If only it wasn't SO worth it.