I felt so sexy today. Confident in my own appeal, my own being. Narcissistic, if you wish to label it.
I was home alone, and I walked around in nearly nothing.
I can't wait to live on my own, for simple things like that. I understand it won't exactly be easy, though.

Finances are never easy. I never have as much money as I want, no matter how hard I try. And sometimes, when the loneliness creeps in I get scared. Scared of forever being lonesome. Scared of what my own thoughts do to my mental health in the long run. But all of that is okay. I think that those things may be normal?

I want to be able to jump on my own couch and use it as a stepping stool to hang wall decorations that my feeble short legs cannot reach.  Or to be able to pee with the door open, without second-guessing the decision.  To sing, at the very tops of my open lungs, just because I like the sound of my own voice.  I will get to make decisions about what food to buy, and how much bread I will need or decide if I really need that extra bag of grapes. I can air dry my limbs, rather than dirty-up another soft towel that was just washed. Flowers will be on my counter, frequently, because I actually like the smell of them and they make me feel better.  I will clean my own room because I want to. Everything will be put in a certain place for a certain reason and belonging.  And in my home, everyone will feel like they belong, a reason to live.