It's crazy how things change. I look at my older posts only to shake my head at how clueless I was. I never thought I'd be where I am now. My parents are divorced now, and my mom is remarried. My sister and I no longer live in the same house, and that kills me. I wouldn't mind bring my laptop into the kitchen and putting on one of my playlists, only to have us dancing around like idiots. I remember when we'd stay up for hours playing with our Barbies and their well thought out lives. We would sit on the floor of her room, surround by three big doll houses and planning outfits. Days when my mama and I would go to Houma, spend the day in Marshall's, grab Chick-fil-A, and get back down the bayou just in time to pick up Madison. Daddy would come home late that night, smelling like work (which I could do without, though I actually don't mind), and sitting down at his computer. Nights that I felt horrible about things, I'd crawl into his lap and cry or complain. I wish i could still do that, but it doesn't feel the same. And when I do come close to it, he isn't there. I miss hearing a house creak from so many years of attention. Madison running down the halls when she was tiny, Mama in the kitchen before Christmas getting all kind of food ready, Daddy outside on the grill or working on his flowers that he hardly had time for. All of these never seemed like such a big deal, until it all slipped from me. Just like the sand in Grande Isle when mama and I would go running. I don't go a day without missing things back then. It was home. It was comfortable. It was my world. Now, I don't really have a world. I need something to show me that everything will be happy and comfortable again. I want to go to sleep at night and feel complete. But I can't do that when someone is living in my house now and my parents are in different states and my sister is an hour away. It doesn't matter about being able to pick up the phone, or take a drive to get to them. It's different now, and it won't go back to the way it was. I'm glad that things are better in that my parents aren't fighting, they're happy with other people. Maybe one day, when I can come home and that home being Great MawMaw's house, I'll be happy. I'll park in front of that house, walk down the steps to the front door, and into that house that is everything that makes me completely happy in my memories. The kitchen on the right, and the short hall leading into the rest of the house on the left and a couple rooms on the right. I can just image Great MawMaw sitting down in that room on the left, asking how I'm doing in school and if my asthma is any better. Always wanting to show me upstairs, her old room. I never got to see that old room until she passed away and we cleaned out the house. I walked upstairs, and she had the prettiest room with a tiny balcony looking over the pond in the back. If I look across my room now, I see her dresser that I fell in love with. It's in bad shape now, but I could never give that away. It's one of my most prized possessions, just like the rest of my memories. But that's all they are: memories.