My house, our house

I used to own my own house which I loved. I brought the house even before it was built, it was just a pile of mud. I watched as it was built and looked forward to moving in and calling it my own. It was my house from it’s beginning. I chose all the fixtures and fittings and decided on how it was decorated and what furniture went into it. I loved my house but this time last year I had to sell it. It was a lovely house so it sold really quickly. I didn’t want to sell it but it was the best for me. I wouldn’t of been able to live there anymore as I am not able to work full time and there are bills to pay. I realise that I didn’t really deal with it very well at the time, I basically let other people take control of the sale and it kind of just happened. Of course now I think about not owning my own house anymore, I have lost my independence. I think the winter evenings don’t help as I just sit around thinking about all the things I have lost. I can’t get them back. Someone else is living in my house, they have probably changed all the things that I loved and put in there. You would probably say, don’t think about that but it is really hard. I am on the bus and I remember walking into my lovely kitchen or watching TV in bed and it just makes me so sad. I just wish I could just go back in there and just have a look around and remember. I guess I need a time machine as this is just not possible. Someone else is living their life in there now. I live in a wonderful house now but it is not my house. A house that I saw being built. Just thinking about this now makes me feel really sad. I now live with my family which helps both me and them. They know that I am safe. It is a lovely big house but it not my house but our house, and this makes me sad.