A tragic day

The decision has been made. I will not go back. I will not question again the validity of this decision. I will press forward toward the goal. I will not give in to guilt, despair or dismay. The line has been drawn. My choices are clear. I can either hold on to a purple wall that prevents me from selling the house, a wall that I cannot take with me when I sell. Or, I can choose to paint it, destroying the work of my own hands. Tearing down what I so carefully created. It must be done.

The purple living room will be painted a creamy yellow color sometime within the next few weeks. The stick figure notes that make me smile will be covered and the den will become a neutral sage color.

The stream will cease to flow;
The wind will cease to blow;
The clouds will cease to fleet;
The heart will cease to beat;
For all things must die.
All Things Must Die, Tennyson