I am on a bus heading through San Francisco, CA. I really miss living in the bay area. I wish I could easily go back.
My house has a foundation problem, and that has made me consider the issue of foundations in my own life. I think the ones I have are also cracking. This belief, coupled with the reality of a broken house has led me to consider that the universe is trying to tell me something.
I feel like my house is dying, and I really don't know how hard I should try to save it. I don't think I have the strength to walk away, but maybe I should. Just maybe that is the best thing to do. How long do you try before you accept that a house just can't be saved; that it isn't the house you really wanted in the first place. Or, the house just doesn't feel like home. I guess is all comes down to that last question, and the question of love.
