Found a house in Rose Bay that I love, that I absolutely love, and I know Lochlan would love it too, and we'd love it in spite of the weather and in spite of the choppy wifi and the wind and the fact that it's a two bedroom mishmash with a questionable number of bathrooms and-a-half and a scary looking staircase and a completely untouched yard but it's also a stone's throw to some of my favourite beaches on earth and it's a stunning interior design and I could paint there and sleep there and count my minutes left on earth there, instead of here.
Escapist fantasies, I know. The problems will travel with me. I repeat, and roll my eyes. Everett is curious and yet he really has heard it all and hasn't gotten sucked in. The theory goes that that exact reason is why I barely talk to him. Fun fact: All we've done is talk. We are sick of each other and so we break early for lunch with an open afternoon and I have a pre-St. Patrick's Day brunch with Satan planned that I am anxious to get ready for.
Only if you bring the entire Collective with you.
Which I wouldn't anyway.
The Collective was an experiment and when it's finished, it's finished.Whether it makes it to fifteen years or twenty on that absolute outside but I don't think it will. We're outgrowing ourselves now. This is the longest I have ever lived at a single address. Even growing up, as I moved to that house at age 8 and moved out at nineteen. I've already passed that milestone here on Point Perdition, effective this week.
But we're all still here. Still collecting paints and pets and boys. Still figuring out cars and schedules and LED light switchovers that are actually bright enough but still nice. Still watching sentry over my tiny wraparound beach that technically isn't mine but the day I find a stranger on it for any length of time will be a strange day indeed. Still finding complete and utter privacy voids in the efforts to share our home and the property as a whole without making it seem as if it isn't everyone's home. Still keeping the rules of the roost intact because they work for everyone. We force consideration and thoughtfulness and respect for those around you and those spaces around you. Everyone is clean and tidy. No one procrastinates. Everyone pitches in. Eleven years on it seems like at one point it was never going to work but then it fell into place and I've been looking for a way out ever since.
This is permanent, Neamhchiontach.
Nothing's permanent, Diabhal.