Guardian Angel

I stand in the room that once contained my furniture. My trophies. My pictures. My memories. Sound echoes off of the hardwood floors and the bare walls. The fuchsia pink room no longer brings me comfort. It no longer brings me happiness. I no longer feel safe and secure. There are no clothes in the closet. There is nothing left for me here. I walk to the living room. So many Christmas days took place in this room. Countless hours of TV and movies. Family time I will never get to have again. I have a new life. I have a husband. I have my own house. I have the chance to start a family. This house that I lived in for fifteen years is no longer my home. I will never be able to come back home. This house has seen my blood, sweat, and tears. It has seen my pain. My happiness. My sorrow. I will forever have memories of this place. I will look back and talk about all of the memories at family functions. I can no longer make memories in this house. It is just a structure. The house that built ...

Married life is basically the same as it used to be. The only thing is that I don't go home to mama. I don't see my daddy every day. My sister isn't down the hall. I come home to my husband. I cook dinner every night for him. I clean my house. I'm a caretaker. A homemaker. I go grocery shopping. I have to budget for bills. I take care of my husband. Our relationship isn't different. It's the same. We're still as in love as we were.