Faded

Today I went back to the house. It's my house but doesn't feel like it any more. In mid-decoration in preparation for being put on the market, it's strangely already feeling like a place in my very distant past. With much of my stuff squirrelled away in boxes in the garage with "NEIL" stickers on, I felt confused, angry, disorientated, to name but three emotions.

And among all the upheaval, still by the side of the bed were the flowers from the wedding (it wasn't that short-lived, readers, they are silk!). My photo is in poor light but somehow that seemed appropriate. I'm sure there's a metaphor here about things fading almost out of sight.

I didn't stay long - with decorating materials in abundance, the smell of paint, and the spare room unnavigable, I didn't feel welcome, and completed the long return journey with just a carload of extra clothes and junk. Some things just weren't meant to be.