thoughts at midight

Not so long ago I wrote a short little ditty about how my heart was like a bungalow on the beach.  Doors and windows flung open,  rooms for everyone.  There has only been a few renters,  once it was nearly given away,  but the recipient backed out. 

It's a funny thing my imagination.  This house I live in now,  it reminds me of the house in my imagination.  Obviously it's not on the beach,  it isn't bigger on the inside and come with unlimited rooms.  But!  It's white and wood,  and there's at least 3 windows per room.  As long as the sun is out it brightens up my house.
There is a peace,  a serenity living here.  Filling it with plants and beautiful things,  filling my living room with friends and laughter. ... that is my future.

I listen to sermons as I go to sleep most nights. I know that's super weird, but it keeps my brain focused.  Somehow everything I listen to, not on purpose, is themed around not giving up, to hope, to trust even when there is only darkness ahead. 
Especially now for Christmas, the theme is always hope. It's a word that brings an ache to my soul.  I always have hope, even if it's an unknowable hope. I don't know exactly what I'm hoping for.

I just miss him this time of year especially because it was between thanksgiving and the middle of january that I was with him. I got dressed this morning, and then realized that I was wearing the same thing I wore the day I moved there and saw him for the second time. I forget so many things, why can't he just fade into the past?