Get some shit up off my chest.

Fuck.

Yeah, Mom, I love the new house. It's great. I really, really really like it here.

It's just great.

But let's get something clear.

This is not my home, this is your house. The house I reside in is my father's house.

I had a home, yeah, back about a week ago. But that home is gone. Now, I have two houses.

Two fucking houses. One of which I have free reign over, the other is yours. One of them is full of my stuff, the other is full of our old stuff. I don't really care.

You can do what you want with your life. But this is not my separation, this is my parent's separation. Your separation. I still have my family.

They just aren't together, I guess. They just have different houses. Two different houses.

But it's okay, I'll help you set up your TV and your internet and your phone. And sure, we can use dad's truck. I'm sure he won't mind. I'm sure he won't mind moving his previous lover's things. Their previous relationship detritus. It's perfectly fine, I'm sure.

Because I can look at this in two ways. One of which is brightly, the other, not so bright.

So forgive me for laughing and smiling, forgive me for telling my sister what I hear, forgive me for not being so completely enthralled with your new life, Mom.

It's just a new house, right? A new house.

Now I have two houses.