What's Past, and Passing, and Yet to Come

You may have noticed that something ... Less than ideal... Has been going on in Yellieland.

I didn't want to talk about it.

I DON'T want to talk about it.

But.

To refuse to speak of something gives it weight -- perhaps more than it deserves. Think of it as the Voldemort Principle, if you're a Harry Potter geek. Calling something by its name -- acknowledging what IS -- takes away its power and relevance.

So.

Several months ago, a friend needed help. I offered him my home, support. I helped him to find a job.  When he wanted to bring his girlfriend along, I said okay. 

I didn't ask for anything in return. When you help someone, you don't do it so they'll repay you; you do it because we're all down here on this earth and we need each other.

Then we decided that, after they moved out, we should continue to be roommates. Because bills split three ways are cheaper than bills split one way. So I broke my lease and moved into the place they'd rented. It was a greater distance from work, and I didn't want to live in that town, but what the heck, it was only a year.

Or, you know, two weeks.

Because that was how long I was there before it all went to hell.

To paraphrase: they loved me? And they appreciated me. But they were moving to the Midwest and I was now on the verge of being homeless.

It sucked. 

It sucked OUT LOUD.

And I felt like an idiot.

I felt like an idiot because I firmly believe that people are good, but if that was true, than what did any of this mean? I was broke, I felt betrayed,  and I was -- very literally -- on the edge of financial ruin and homelessness.

There was a lot of crying. In the arms of friends. On the phone. At Target (okay, that was just once). While composing emails.

But something else happened as well. Something amazing. The people I love banded together. I found myself with a plan, and a place to stay, and strong arms to carry me and hold me up and help me move. 

I set out to help someone. It didn't work out.

But in a way, that's okay. I have been shown, again and again, that my family and friends are amazing. I have been reminded again and again that love is the most important thing, that generosity is boundless, and that kindness can never, ever be overrated.

Because of those truths, Bean and I have a safe place to stay. We have a roof over our heads -- in fact, we have been offered multiple roofs -- and a soft bed and warm food. We have been shown the love and sweetness that I was beginning to doubt still existed.  We have been packed, moved, hosted, fed, and loved.

I can never repay these debts that I owe. Never. Not in a million years.

Today, Bean and I found and were approved for an apartment I love in the town I adore. We'll have an address again. We'll have a place that is safe and where all of the people who got us here will bs welcome whenever, wherever.

I have been frightened and on the edge, but my friends and family have made sure that I know -- really know -- that I am not alone.

And that? Is priceless.