The house that could be a home...

Once upon a time perhaps this house was a home, depending on whether one believes Tommy or his son. But I'm sitting here looking at this monster place he now lives in all by himself — can envision us sitting on the stoop, cuddled up with my sheepdogs at our sides. Makes me so sad — can see us coming & going with our groceries, redecorating, gardening, grilling, laughing, loving — can feel the love that could be inside. A house is not a home unless it is filled with love...

It wasn't so long ago when he was tender & gentle, so loving. He never was this way other way — this cynical, mean streak coming into play. Don't know what happened to make him like this — especially after saying what an incredible life we could have had. It's still not too late for that — we have lots of years ahead of us, lots of years to live our dream life. But he has to open his heart again, let the love back in — he's so locked inside himself right now I don't know if he can ever be lured out. You never know what you're missing unless you take a chance. The chance I am willing to make is ask him to marry me — tell him if it doesn't work out we can annull the marriage & I won't ask him for a dime. We were always perfect together. I think we still are, or at least can be, if he'll only take the chance...open himself to the possibility of something wonderful & priceless as its result...

Just another thing that breaks my heart...