the last time i sat in the rain, begging it to wash me away, i could not pin point the pain.
this time i know, and i can't bear it.

I'm trying to hide things that remind me of you, but not get rid of them. I will not erase you. I just want to stop feeling so sad that you can't be who I needed you to be. We're different, and I need time, but I won't let you go.

I went for a walk down my road with my camera on a nice day. 

The house across the street from my own. Inhabited briefly a few times a year by possible killers. 

The red leaves are my favorite.

No one lives here anymore. The people who own it stopped coming up years ago. It's absolutely haunted. 

My house. Built by my dad and only half haunted, since we live on property containing multiple foundations of old homes from the 1800s and the ghosts like to visit.

A ghost has been messing with my rearview mirror. Two mornings in a row it had been moved drastically. The thirdly morning, after asking my dad if he'd been in my car, it was untouched, but I locked my car that night anyway. The next morning it was turned down again. I did not move it. I thought long and hard about if I had by accident. I did not.

SOS

Life in Vermont is dull and agonizing and exhaustingly repetitive. I went back to work at my old high school job–a gift shop at the top of a small mountain with a large view–after the owner called me, basically begging me to work for him during the oh so popular foliage season. In a desperate attempt to avoid tedious job applications and learning a new work place, I agreed. I'm sure it was a mistake. I'm uninspired and severely lacking mental stimulation. There is so much time for my mind to plummet to its dark, cavernous place where anguish prevails above all else. One night in particular I was so upset I drank at least a full bottle of cheap Pinot Noir and woke up to my pajama pants on the floor and the memory of sending borderline suicidal texts to Dane. It was like being back in high school when my cries for emotional help were overwhelming, uncomfortable, and not taken seriously.

That's it. Other than acquiring my very own car, nothing else has happened. The winter is fast approaching and I'm desperate to get out of here before it hits hard.

Every cold morning I drink "Full Moon" coffee, and every morning I try to be a witch. I've yet to be successful.

Introducing Ady (pronounced like "80"), my very age appropriate, classy car. God bless freedom.

I had a moment with this dog through our respective cages, mine being the gift shop, his being an actual cage.

In hell, having a casual cocktail with the raspberry liqueur we sell at the gift shop. Cocktail hour was surprisingly not my idea, but that of my 58ish year old coworker, Toni. She's a delight when I am not feeling so delighted, which is always.

The book I've been waiting for. I relate to Lena's stories more than I care to admit.

At home, soaking in the pretty leaves. I actually have been quite enchanted by the leaves this year, especially the red ones. I've nearly crashed my car multiple times from photo taking and observing.

This post feels like one giant white girl problem, so I'd like to say I am incredibly grateful that I have a home, fantastic parents, a car, and a job (even though I'm only making 10/hour, which sucks, but okay, it's a job).