It’s a New Dawn, It’s a New Day (It’s a New House, It’s a New Fling)

14 Apr

porch swing

Imagine this: I’m in my 2001 Mazda, windows rolled down, on the highway, and this is blasting on the radio:

Chewing gum and blowing bubbles.

Nodding my head like it’s 1992 and I’m Mike Myers.

It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day. Ten days ago, I left my city apartment, with the chattering neighbors, and the stuffy stairwell, and the streets crammed with buildings, traffic lights and garbage cans, and moved into a quiet suburban neighborhood, where morning sounds are birds chirping, coffee dripping and children playing. After a lengthy search and almost having given up on the idea several times, I finally found a cute little house with an itty bitty garden and a more than decent landlady.

I moved!

I packed, I sorted out books and CD’s and other accumulated possessions into His and Mine boxes. There’s nothing in my new house that isn’t mine. No forgotten pair of men’s underwear intruding on my drawers. No How to Become Rich inspicrapical books that I’ll never read on my book shelves. It’s all me and my boy.

Third morning in my apartment, my Boy slept over at his dad’s. I opened my eyes and looked around the room. I did not feel disoriented, I felt content (in more ways than one). The light coming through the windows, and the quiet of the empty house were soothing and comforting. The coffee I shared with a friend in the sunlit garden and the stories that were told between gulps made me feel free… Stories about the date, first one since Skating Guy, stories about after the date, stories about 5 am goodbyes.

God, I needed that. The second he laid his hands on me (finally, I had been signaling for most of the evening) my body turned to butter as I blissfully parted with analysis and judgment and allowed myself to sink into the sweet oblivion of arms and legs, and lips and tongues and necks, and backs, and other parts.

That was last week. Then there was unpacking. I pretty much deserve a medal for having the house completely unpacked and organized in 7 days. Including, obviously, a PORCH SWING! Including sitting on that porch swing, hugging my knees, with a nice cup of herbal tea. Happy place.

Ever since I can remember, this has almost always been the case: If I wanted something so badly, that I could literally envision it in my head, that I was able to make myself believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that it would come true – it did. I’ve seen this picture in my head so many times before. And here it is materialized.

The highway, the car, the music, parking under a tree that will cover my already dirty car with a sea of dry leaves before morning. The radio switched off, the windows rolled up, the car door shut, the green gate opened, and here I am, in my little haven, with the birds chirping, laundry drying on the line and my son’s toys left outside on the grass.

I made this for myself. And I’m almost as proud of that as I am of the gorgeous little boy I get to share this with.


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