Elise O’Reilly Rearranged My living room was always wrong you see. Every month to my husband’s dismay, I moved all the furniture tirelessly. Pacing, I’d imagine a better way. Thinking this time, I would get it perfect. But everything we owned was not mine. Hand-me-downs and things I didn’t select. I wasn’t at home with what was assigned. All this time I swallowed the truth at hand: Husband was malicious, life felt so grim. Of course my home felt like a stranger’s land. No rearrangement could solve that problem. I was restless and deep down, knew the source But moving chairs was simpler than divorce.
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