Letting go, little by little.

My bedroom got purplish pink because someone asked me to paint it.  I picked girly colors.  I didn't paint it that way for me.  I painted it that way for the former when she said she was coming home.  It was yellow.  Now it's blue.

With white trim.  Tomorrow I get a fresh gallon of the white I used to paint it the trim before and prime and paint the trim I added around the windows.  The ceiling is white again after two coats of ceiling paint.  The walls are now "In the Midnight Hour" blue; it's close to the cornflower blue Crayola crayon.  With the white trim it looks just like the picture I saw online.

Painting it was not cathartic.  I was excited when I painted it last time in the hope that I was gonna have a second chance.  It didn't quite work that way.  Hey, things happen, though, and I just never got around to painting it. It wasn't that I didn't want to .  I just didn't want to.

Yeah, I know, but it's the best way I can explain it.

It's hard sometimes.  I try to move on and the crazy starts all over, but nothing ever changes.  At least this time the crazy is only happening around me, not too me.  I got invited to play but had the good sense to stay on the sidelines.  I'm getting a bit wiser in my old age.  I'm just kind of letting God direct the path.  For once, the only thing I did was pick out paint.

The room looks nice.  When I get it all done, I'll post pictures.

The one thing painting did though was help me pass the time today.

Sometimes, that's not easy either.

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