Displaced.
That's how I'm feeling right now.
My teenage son has come back to live with me. It seems that it wasn't working out at his father's place. Who could have seen that coming...? (It was written in the fucking stars)
Where I'm currently living, there is no room for him, so he has been boarding with a friend. I thank the universe that his friends mumma bear just got it, without me having to go into minuet detail. I didn't have to fill in all the blanks.
My time where I am living is coming to end. I've been searching and applying frantically for places, so I can make a home for Nathan and I. As yet - nothing. Oh the irony that I can write and connect on the internet, but are, for all means and purposes, essentially homeless as of Wednesday. That I have an iPad, a laptop, an iPhone, a car...yet no home.
I just stood in my kitchen, clutched my hair, and yelled at the ceiling, HOW THE FUCK DID I GET HERE?
Don't worry, I know the answer to that. What I'm still working out is how the fuck do I get out of 'here'?
I am funning on blind faith. Like I have never done before. I don't have the answers, or solutions. I usually do. It's a strange land to be in, where I don't know the lay of the land. Everything is unfamiliar, strange and uncertain. I just keep looking. For a house. For a job. And sending it out there to the universe, every single second, that it's all going to be ok.
I have to. The alternative isn't an option.
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