My turn.

Won’t you love me? I’ve found in a home in you, warm and well lit. Yes, I’ll admit I found where you hide your spare key. I hope you don’t mind that I let myself in. You’re still paying off the mortgage, in a tight spot you had to re-finance. Your monthly payment a reminder of the foundation you paid such a high price to fix. I know you’re exhausted, and paint is chipped, the floorboards creaking under your feet. Windows cracked and the roof is leaking.

We can remodel this place, my love. We can fix this . These lights stay on. Sure, we might have to change a bulb from time to time, one to hold the ladder, the other to unscrew the broken glass. These lights stay on. We’ve patched the roof and painted these walls, replaced the doors and changed the locks.

I never knew such a beautiful home. You’re happy and I’m proud.

You come over to my house to visit, I take you there, but we arrive to find it’s been foreclosed.

But the lights inside are on, and bright.