My house mates married girlfriend moved in not long ago with her son and two dogs. My other house mate also has a dog. I am tired and I am angry over being pushed aside and of the sense that I am an inconvenience, but this day I claim for myself: it's not that I have been asked to leave, but that I am happy to go.
I sip coffee and puff a cigarette while listening to Three Days Grace, my usual fare when I wake up. I am waiting for my chance, my opportunity. I've been to Louisville to the Derby Museum and I've been out on the track where the races are. I too have been in the stable and prepared and now I wait anxiously, determined, focused on the race set before me. The gate will open and I will run with fury.
I will not look back on where I've come save to drive every stride I take. I will not faulter and I will not go left or right. I will win that which I have set out for. The sky is gray and it is raining. It is the start of springtime and last nights storm has left a chil in the air. My fiance will arrive in two hours to help me pack the rest of my things and will drive with me to my new place.
That place too will only be temporary but will be useful in the mean time. My new room mate works days and I work afternoons and we'll see each other but in passing on occasion. I will wake there in quiet solitude to my thoughts, coffee, and my computer and a new opportunity.
I will be closer to work, the same distance from my fiance with whom I will have a place where we can be alone, a place she can visit. Later on after we get my things moved we will spend much needed time together and soak in each other's presence. I cannot wait to hold her.
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