Lately I have truly come to know the meaning of bittersweet. On Friday the 5th, I purchased my first house. This was something I was supposed to do with Michael. Something that we had planed on and hoped to do soon. The house is amazing. I know for a fact that Michael would have loved the house. I want so badly to say that this is OUR house, our first house. But I can't. It's my house and only my house. I can't get his opinion on where to place the couches, on what to do with our room, why the hell we don't get hot water in the master bath room. These thoughts and concerns are endless. Instead of asking him those questions, I'm asking myself what to do with his clothes, colognes, shoes, tooth brush, everything that was his! This is not right. This was not supposed to happen. I never really paid attention to it before but we really did have sooo many pictures of ourselves in our house. Every box I open is like a stab in my heart because those pictures bring back so many memories and those memories bring back so many what ifs. I would give anything on this earth to get you back. I would lie, cheat, steal, kill anything.