Oh, I could tell you stories....

I've been reviewing my life a lot lately. I got too used to not having anything to say, to fall short in comparison, and damn, I believed it. But I could tell you stories!

All my talks with Joe the past weeks (my Gods, we're talking about three weeks here!) has brought up so much. So many forgotten things, so many brand new things....

I was thinking about a club I used to go to, and wondered why I stopped going. "Because I got homeless again", I thought, shrugging mentally.
Yeah, you kinda see where this is going, right?

Having been homeless is something I only share with very few people I know. According to Swedish law, you're homeless if you don't know where you'll be living in two months. I say, you're homeless if you don't know where you'll sleep next week.

The past nearly 4 years I've moved around. I moved eight times. Counting from when I had to flee my old town for several reasons, in july (?) 2006, I've moved eight times.
"And then I got kicked out".... I can say that in a casual tone.

How will I adapt to something I'm being told is normal, when it's not normal to me...?
I'm adaptable, I have to be. Everything in my life (with exception of my family) is temporary, by my choice, by faith, by the choices of others. I'm used to things suddenly changing. Packing up and going. But moving is a worldly thing, adjusting to mental changes is worse.

I'm like a Swiss Army knife, where most people just use the big blade. Now this man who only recently came in to my life, wants to see my whole range, and I show him. Not by him forcing, but by my free will.

Some days it feels like my life crumbles around me, why did this Pandoras Box have to be opened? And why am I just letting it happen? Why not turn my back on him and run just the fastest I can? Because not only do I love him, I also feel safe.
Safety is the word, he's never scared me. The first night I spent at his place, I feel asleep fast, and the second night I feel asleep fast, in his arms. I was in a very new-found friends' place, and I slept!? Not only do I feel safe with him, he feels safe with me.

Normal. Shit. If this is what "normal" is, then, seriously, what have I been doing this far? In so many ways, this is the opposite of my normal.

I could tell you stories, but there've been people begging me to stop, to not tell any more. And that was several years ago, life just kept adding stories, that won't be told.

The day, many years from now, that I'm gone, not a single person will have the whole story.


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