Moving

i hate it. i fucking despise the very thought of it. Since Master and i have been married we haven’t stayed in one place for more than a lease. 

“Yay praise the new year” and fa-la-la is not what i think of every time a new year rolls around. The days move quicker, it’s a blur now. For godsakes we just celebrated our sons birthday, is it really time to think about what we will do for his second?! 

They told me this would happen. “Time flies” my father would say as I told him how long Christmas would be from now (it was December 1st). i look back now and a tear of longing and joy brims. i miss being a child. There were no confusions, everything was black and white. There were no deadlines and a beautiful day would last a lifetime, just laying in the grass watching the clouds float by.

When I look forward into our future the same tear is justified. i long for our son to experience child hood the way i did, (minus my parents weird beliefs of course) but i’m also sad to see him grow up and become a man and leave.

How did this happen? When did this happen? It feels like a cruel trick and if I just pinch myself i will wake up from dozing off, and I’ll be laying in the grass again, no worries, no fears.

Time became gradually faster as I grew up, it was so gradual that one day I woke up and said “how on earth am i going to get all this done!? Where will I find the time?” And i shoot a death glare at time saying “you tricked me!”. Then I realize i’m talking to a mirror.

i’m so ready to settle down, so I can enjoy my family while there’s still time left.

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