dis-comforted

they say there's comfort in numbers. they say that misery loves company.

today is election day. today is foreclosure day. one has a silver lining and the other doesn't seem to. (yet)

i've been at the old house several times over the past few weeks. thinking each time that i'm done and then discovering another nook of memories unsorted and uncollected. the scent of the house was the most poignant and debilitating when i first returned. though empty and unoccupied, it still smelled of us. i lived there longer than any other house in my life and every part of it was chosen by me, from the dirt it was built on to the roof line and everything in between. for a person whose childhood homes outnumbered her years and her control, it was my first sanction of stability and independence.

and yet that stability slipped out from under my feet like quicksand. and my sanctuary turned albatross. and today, foreclosure day, when i finally have the utilities turned off and have relinquished ownership of 3910 embassy way i'm choosing gratitude over guilt and hope over shame. because the stability and security i imagined bound to an address has put down deeper roots and bolstered my spirit in a home i only lay the faintest claim to.

and i take comfort in numbers. one in ninety-eight households in atlanta are involved in a foreclosure. that's the latest data, just released a few days ago. as a city we should be feeling very comforted, very comfortable indeed.

as an american citizen on election night though, i'm feeling very uncomfortable this evening. i turned off the play-by-play coverage instead electing to take my medicine in one disgusting swallow tomorrow morning.

and in a city where the three metro-est congressional districts, and the ones surrounding and encompassing my entire life, are represented by democrats i take little comfort in the adage: misery loves company; for the misery outweighs their company tonight.

d: a miraculous final tally
b: discovery that stability and security are not defined by brick and plaster, but rather the love within
g: closure by way of foreclosure