One

We have but one life, that´s what I believe in.

We should never take it for granted, a heart attack, a stroke, it can hit peeps of any age, any time.

I am so thankful so far ... for well, what.

I lost my parents kinda early.
Bro has different priorities but seeing me.
And as in a couple I am very much alone. Mind- and physical-wise, I sleep by myself for a long time (not my choice). No project since mid-Jan work-wise does not help.

I am sick of being thankful.
We do not get along anymore, Ingo and I - I thought we would, I was SURE of it. I am accused to "hide" things, I accuse of promises to tidy up not being fulfilled since we live here.

I want to be happy.
I love him, but I´m not loved back, just questions where is this, where is that, where did YOU "HIDE" it.
And I have to admit, upon the LOADS of stuff he spreads all over the place I loose track.

I live in a garbage bin.
Again.
Bro never invited friends cause our Mum... she was a messie trying to provide for her kids. She tried hard and I always felt ashamed to have Ingo over, too.

He never did mind and now I know why.
From one hell to the next.

I feel and am: Useless, un-productive, un-loved.

This is no drama-queen, this is a fact.

I have to get it out.

I seldom felt so alone.

My blog, just ignore me now, but I kinda need to get it out.

I don´t know what will be next.
The balcony is getting so beautiful, thanks to Ingo, too.
Summer is on the way.

Maybe these are just the blackest weeks of my life? Months?

I always tried to be positive.
Maybe that was wrong altogether?

Summer, right?

This is not against Ingo, I´m the failure.