Between Maps and Meaning

I’ve lived in this house all my life. I once shared these steps with you, these dinners, this yard, and this heart. I can say I gave you everything I had indeed during your stay in my home. I gave you good things like love, laughs, adventures, and an undying honorable support. I gave you bad things, I was lazy, I lied, I called you names, and I threw your belongings to the curb of my street. I have no issue with facing both sides of who I am. I am not all good, but I am not all bad either. Since I gave you both, I can sincerely say I gave you it all.

After you left my home I too left. For a while I roamed the streets like a ghost or ghoul. Where I went people left, where I stayed I was alone, and this was far from a sad existence this was a choice. I wouldn’t say I was happy but I can’t say I was sad since it was what I chose. How can one be sad if they choose it?

When I was tired of being a ghoul I decided to become a jester. See I loved the streets, but I was tired of being alone. Although I was afraid of being close with someone, and because of this I found the jester to be the perfect life. Because I was funny where I went people followed, and where I stayed people sat. As a clown though they never took me serious. They didn’t ask me about my secrets, they didn’t know about my life, and they didn’t care. For me, for a time, this was perfect. After sometime of being a jester I grew tired of the crowds and decided again to become a ghoul. I needed to be alone, and I was out of jokes anyways. Except I didn’t become a ghoul this time.

I found myself searching for you. Maybe I always was? Maybe, as a ghoul all I wanted was for everyone to leave so I could better find you. Maybe, as a jester I hoped you’d come in for a laugh. We often don’t admit the things we do are rarely for ourselves they are almost always to impress other people. Seeing I couldn’t find you as a ghoul or a jester I decided to roam the streets in search for you. I occasionally found you, and when I did I was happy. I’d see you and ask how things have been since you left home, I’d pray for you, enjoy your company, and the next thing I knew you weren’t there anymore. You were roaming the streets too. At least that’s what I thought. The truth was you weren’t roaming the streets as a ghoul or a jester you were just trying to stay away from me. Yet, you were kind and when I found you each time, you gave me good wishes, and quietly slipped away on whatever adventure you were on.

It took me a few times to learn you were more hiding than roaming and I decided it was time to go home. At home I decided I would wait for you. Maybe, just maybe, one day you would want to come home. You occasionally visited and would stay for a day or two. The first day I’d be happy and excited to see you back in this house. The next day I’d be confused. You’d seem so happy you seem like you wanted to come home, but you’d tell me you had to leave. Each time before you left you told me a new truth. Something I didn’t know before and it was hard to learn them. I’d ask each time if there was anything left to tell me, and you’d say there was nothing left. Then you’d visit, I’d enjoy you, and you’d have to leave. Except there was always something else you had to tell me, and I’d wish you didn’t choose to keep them secret for so long.

I told you I couldn’t look for you in the streets anymore, and I couldn’t write for you to visit me either. I told you that you had to find me. Even then I wouldn’t make you look just as I wouldn’t make you beg. All you’d have to do is choose to come home and choose to stay. I just couldn’t write to you anymore and I couldn’t roam the streets any longer. See I’d been gone many years and I’d been waiting many more here at my house. I forgot to take care of my house. So it’s not pride that keeps me from writing or ego that keeps me from roaming. I need to clean up this mess. Each year my house gets more messy and I have to work on this now before it falls apart. I told you to come visit whenever you want though, and if you intend to stay you know I’d clear a space for you. I made it clear although I couldn’t write or roam any longer, you were always welcome to visit our house.

As I clean my house I find old things we used to enjoy. I pulled some weeds the other day and noticed a garden bed I made for you. I was cleaning the attic and had to kill a few spiders, and it reminded me of your silly fearful screams. I was washing the car and I remembered some late night drives we had that we both cherished so much. This house is full of things that remind me of you. Mostly because it wasn’t just my house. I have to make this house my own but in that process I’m remembering you. At first when I noticed you everywhere I thought to forget it, but that doesn’t work. I found it’s better to remember. Remember each smile, each laugh, each fight, and each hurtful thing that happened. I don’t think you are ever going to come home. If you ever do this house will be ready for new memories. I’ll have remembered all the old ones and felt them away. See that is the key! You can’t forget, you just have feel it so often it becomes a distant thought. That might seem sad or maybe mean but that is not my intention. If you come home I’ll be as clean as the house. If you decided to stay away well….. at least my house is ready for visitors again though I do hope you come home.