The lease then is signed. Tuesday week, I move in. That means that I am packing at this end. And thinking abut things. Apparently X is in New York. Sometimes I wish to sit and weep. I am not of that ilk. Not strong. Not ruthless. Not able to fight just like Dad couldn’t find Russell Green or Neeta Homes. Nor can I.
Then deep down within, below the fear, I prefer to be me. So be it, Shack Girl. I wish I could have given my Kids some money – but even for them, I could not fight this fight. No matter – they didn’t ask me to.
Even though we ain’t got money, I’m so in love with you Honey and every – every thing is going to be alright.