#smoke on a little wooden stool I made in eighth grade and I miss that old house so much and I can never go back and they cut all the trees

[milo-is-rambling]

Why do I feel guilty for being happy? Like I am happiest sitting in the trunk of the car at the lake alone reading and listening to music and watching movies and just being alone in the van and then I have to like force myself to get back in the drivers seat and go home to be alone at home like even if I did the same stuff in my bedroom it wouldn't make me happy the same way. I feel so bad for this change I feel like I'm avoiding my mom when I'm not it's just like memories of dad and friends I don't talk to anymore and like yeah it's just a lot easier to sit in the car and be happy so why do I feel so bad when I'm happy driving around

#i love my mom I love my bedroom I love my dog I love my house I love my yard and my neighbors but why did he have to die down the street #like dude #it's literally the closer I get to my house the worse this fucking black cloud is over my head #i just want to get away from it and the twenty minutes to drive to the lake seems to be just enough for me to get away from it all and just #live in the moment #and it's perfect. it's fucking perfect. but then I have to get up and go home cause I can't sit in the car forever #and I used to sit in the driveway at the old house parked for an hour after I got home #but now we've got real neighbors and no trees surrounding the yard we're so painfully visable to everyone I just want to sit outside but #also hide from the world at the same time and that's why I miss New England and trees surrounding my bedroom and climbing out my window to #smoke on a little wooden stool I made in eighth grade and I miss that old house so much and I can never go back and they cut all the trees #down anyways #the trees that watched me cry when I walked home from school and jump rope and laugh and smoke cigs with my best friend at the time and now #the trees are gone #it feels like a piece of me is still with that house in New Hampshire even though new people live there and maybe there's a part of my dad #there too that I'm not getting back #i can see him so clearly in my brain sitting at his desk in that house #i can see it clearer than I can see him anywhere in the new house he isn't with us he is in New Hampshire he isn't here it's so painfully #obvious that he isn't here anymore and it just hurts I don't wanna think about the house I just want to sit at the lake and cry in the trunk #like I'm doing rn cause fuck I made the tears happen thinking about New Hampshire and growing up and changing and death and my dad #it's just really hard to deal with sometimes and I had a great day today but I'm still ending it by crying