If It Feels Good Do It

Since moving out, I have not visited the house that I grew up in often. The house in Benicia, I mean. The house in the hills, I mean.

If I did visit, usually I would not sleep over. I hated spending the night. I felt sad.

But last Christmas when I came to visit, something funny happened. I slept in a sleeping bag on the floor of the living room. I slept next to the fireplace with a fire going. I found that I liked it there. The living room on the floor. It was alright.

Now I visit once per week. I’ve been doing that since the beginning of 2009. And I sleep downstairs.

I could be upstairs in my old room. I could sleep in a bed there. But I am better off on the living room floor next to the fire. It’s warm. And I feel okay.

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