She had not been herself in years...one bad and untimely decision after another had led her to an unfortunate place...one of great regret and remorse.
She feels like that dilapidated, old house--the shell is there, albeit falling apart, while the inside has turned to decay.
The cobwebs in her mind cloud her already poor judgment. She neither feels genuinely loved nor does she feel capable of returning such a warm, devoted emotion.
Restoration would require motivation, time, and money...she possesses none of that. Her run-down existence is plagued with multiple physical and mental disorders. Chasing temporary fixes of religious beliefs and legal addictive stimulants have left her penniless and unsatisfied.
Like that haunted, troubled house, the only thing she is good for now is scaring people away.
She, alone, is responsible for this current state of isolated disrepair. No one else is to blame. Unable to set boundaries in order to combat the needs of others have led her to this total and complete despair.
When she thinks about how selfish it would be to demolish the wreck she has become, she knows that is not an option.
She will continue down this dark path remaining vacant and uninhabitable allowing only the wild, misfit animals that wander in to take up residence...
until...
...she is pronounced...
...officially condemned.
:( This hits too close to home right now, I think... I love the house though. I lived in an old Victorian for some of my childhood years and I love them.
ReplyDeleteI have driven by this house countless times and never noticed the Victorian look of it. This day we were parked across the street at a different angle instead of just driving by, and I snapped the shot. It's a good lesson in looking at something old in a different way in order to see its beauty.
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