I want a place of my own. A small place full of light. A cheap studio or one bedroom place in a good neighborhood. A place where I can come and go without worrying about anybody else. Somewhere I can be alone. Somewhere to have a dinner party. Somewhere my dad doesn’t interrupt with the score, or the news while I am writing. Where I can listen to the music I like, watch what I want on TV, or sit in the quiet. Somewhere I can run from the bathroom to the bedroom naked after a shower.

I want a car. Not a sports car. Not a van or family wagon. Not a muscle car or a classic car. Not a status symbol. A car. Something reliable. Something to get from point A to point B. Something with good gas mileage. A car so that I can go where I want, when I want. So I can make plans on the spur of the moment and go. So when I want to get out of my own place, I can. I don’t want to rely on anyone for a ride or to borrow my Dad’s car.

I want to no longer be lonely. I want to reconnect with friends I haven’t seen in twenty odd years because I have been out of state most of that time. Busy with boyfriends, husbands, and children. Busy with my own foolishness. I want a girls night out. Drinks or brunch with my mom and sisters. Craziness with old friends, catching up or just having fun. Girlfriends to laugh with and confide in.

I want a friend. A guy friend. Not a boyfriend, relationship, romance, fiancé or marriage. A guy friend. Someone to talk to about books, music, film, sports. Someone who will share the pain of another season watching the Cubs lose. Or, go to a movie…you choose this time, me the next. Someone to go out to dinner with, share a glass of wine with. Someone to sit with and read the Sunday paper, or watch the game. I don’t want to hear about the woman you are still hung up on. I don’t want to hear about your problems at work. I don’t want to pay your way. I can and will pay my own. I don’t want or need another addict in my life.

I want to continue therapy until Labor Day, before I have to start looking for a “real” job. I want give my broken soul time to heal. To remember how to love myself. To remind my children that I love them. To express to them how sorry I am for any pain I caused them. For them to understand the decisions I made seemed like the right ones at the time. To thank my parents for all their help. For not giving up on me, even when it would have been easy. To thank my siblings for biting their tongues more often than not, which I am sure was not easy. But for speaking up when it seemed necessary. I love you all.

I want to be happy again. To find that part of me that I like. So I can share it again. I want this yesterday. But I know I have to be patient. So I will keep up the soul searching. Continue pouring out on “paper” that which fills my mind. Posting the crap, and the truth. The good and the ugly. I will cry when I am feeling sorry for myself and laugh on the good days. And I will keep trying.