i’m building houses in my head again...
Jun. 17th, 2025 05:32 pmso i’ve been obsessed with looking at houses on zillow or redfin or whatever other site exists. it started when i moved in with my brother and lost my childhood home. maybe it’s a coping mechanism. maybe it’s just delusion. i keep telling myself—one day, that’s going to be my future. i’ll get a home of my own. just me, my dad, my younger sister, and our two cats. that’s it. that’s the dream.
it’s all i talk about with my sister now. different cities. states. sometimes even other countries. i go through phases where i get completely obsessed, convinced that if i just move there, everything will get better. everything will finally start over.
in 2020, right after we lost the house, it was oregon. that one made sense—my dad’s side of the family lives there, and we used to visit a lot in the summer. it’s close enough to california that it felt familiar, but better. quieter. people were nicer, even in bigger towns like medford. when my dad went up there this past october, a dialysis nurse literally drove him to his hotel when he got lost. personally drove him. that would never happen here. not at his regular home dialysis. that kind of kindness... that kind of neighborly-ness. i love it. i long for it. i still do. but i can’t imagine living there now. not without him. everything would remind me of him, and i don’t think i’d survive that. not really.
then in 2021, it was washington. all because i stumbled across this youtuber, becky acre homestead. and she had my dream life, really. aussie shepherds, backyard chickens, a garden full of real food, canning her own jams, a seemingly perfect quiet life with her husband and parents. it felt so stable. so safe. and one of my sisters lives in washington, though on the opposite side of the state from what i dreamed about, but still. someone familiar. someone there. i think i held onto that for a while before letting it go. slowly. quietly. like everything else.
now it’s new england. and this one's lasted longer than the others. over a year now. i don’t even know how it started. maybe i googled “safest states” or something. that is always my top priority. but i got stuck on new hampshire. i can’t stop thinking about it. it’s so different from what i’m used to, but in this weird way, it reminds me of being a kid. like when the leaves on our trees still turned orange. like when the rain would flood the school pavement and my shoes would get soaked, and my dad would stuff them with newspaper and put them in front of the heater.
i think i’d love it there. i know my dad would’ve. i think about taking him fishing. to the mountains. maybe even camping. i pretend sometimes, when i’m in one of my moods (which is most days), that everything’s fine. that he’s still coming with us.
i know that’s not healthy.
right now i’m hooked on houses with guest houses. the kind just a few feet from the main house. and i don’t even know why. it’s not like we’d need it. if i move, it’ll just be me and my younger sister. that’s it. no big, happy family to fill the rooms. no full dinner table. just the two of us.
and it’s funny. because all i do is complain about my older siblings. how much i want to get away from them. and that’s true. that’s still true. it’s part of why i love new england—none of them live even remotely close to it. but there’s this twisted little part of me that hopes... maybe they’ll see us move. maybe they’ll get jealous. maybe they’ll miss us.
and they’ll follow.
and we’d be a family again. maybe they’d live just a few blocks away and drop by without calling. maybe i’d finally be the one who hosts things. the one who has something to offer. the provider. an adult. not the burden. a peer. a person.
but 95% chance that never happens. they all have their own families now. roots cemented in california. my oldest sister is well off, she’s not leaving. my brother might, maybe, but his kid’s just starting high school. he’s not gonna rip that away just because i moved.
i think that’s how lonely i am.
even the people who make me feel like shit... the ones who pushed me toward this escape fantasy in the first place... i still want them with me. i still have this deep, weird hope that they'll come, too.
i don’t know what that says about me.
i just know it’s probably not good.