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A quick jot down of how things in life never go how we day dreamed them to be

It was a last minute trip to Colorado. And a last second decision to stay one day longer. Every visit brings a different emotion in my carry on. Hate. Excitement. Anxiety. Disappointment. What was once my sanctuary has now become like the bottom of a dirty trash can that I'm too lazy to wash out. It's there and as far as I'm concerned it will always be there.
Most of my friends have moved away or got married or had a baby. But I was no different from them. I moved away. Got married. Had a baby. But when something that you once called home changes while your away it becomes unacceptable. No one is allowed to live their lives and change unless I approve it. I guess that's all in theory though.
My mom moved away from the 5 bedroom house I grew up in. Memories good and bad faded away. And when my son gets older and I take him here I will drive him to that house and say I grew up in that house. And little will he care nor think of all the love and hate that seeped into the cracks and crevices of every corner. That house is now someone else's secret keeper.
Now I'm sleeping on her pottery barn tan style couch. I lay here wondering if I leave my eye makeup on how pissed she will be if it smudges her unblemished couch. I rule out that a couch is a couch and my face will be on the pillow so im solid.
I'm a lazy person.

My son just 15 months old (that's 1 year and 3 months for those who don't feel like figuring that out) is sleeping in the what I'm assuming is library room down the hall. Two giant dark wood sliding barn doors keep him sealed away from the rest of the house. I believe that it's a room that does not get used often. A small book shelf with dog eared pages and tiny pictures delicately placed here and there. Small trinkets sitting right where they should. My mother always has a place for everything. A grey sofa that is about as comfortable as laying on smooth concrete. And a brown desk with more pictures and an old windows laptop that has probably never seen the light of day in a long time.
The house is tip top. Clean. Organized. Cream. Pottery barn in the suburbs.
When my mother moved me away to California so she could run away from her problems here. I always swore I would return. I would date the man that was 10 years too old for me and I could live how I really wanted to.
With out her.
I never moved back to Colorado. I hate it here. I fell in love in California.
Got married.
Made a baby.
My mother returned after I was married, I think realizing that she couldn't pretend anymore. And Mt shoulder was no longer vacant for her to cry on.
This place was once my home.
I am now a foreign resident here.