oak trees
here i am, in my new house.
but it doesn't feel right. it doesn't feel like ours yet. like we're on loan, could leave tomorrow. everyone keeps saying that it'll come in time, that i'll get used to it, but i don't know. how long is that supposed to take?
it's weird, not being home. this isn't home to me. it's just a house, just wood and glass, and concrete and paint, but it has some other family's memories in it. our memories are 2.2 miles away, in our old house.
so what am i doing here? i don't belong. i'm stepping in on someone else's memory, sleeping in someone else's bedroom. this isn't mine.
none of it is mine.
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