Will and I had yet another pretty good discussion this evening. Turns out that he's got a great chance to go back home a lot earlier than we had thought.

May 13, 2012.

So. Yeah. Fear? For sure.

Waiting to hear about the one-bedroom. If that falls through either due to cost or whathaveyou, I've a seriously tough decision to make. Should I try for another live-in caregiver or should I instead look for a paying roommate and pay for a live-out caregiver? Give a bit of discount on the room since I've so much stuff taking up the space? Half on all the utilities? Maybe offer a bit of discount if they help out?

I'd save a heck of a lot of money. Mom thought I was being taken advantage of and Will helped sway me because even he thinks I'd save money and be better off not paying my caregiver with rent and utilities. That's my thought, I guess. Between Erica and Will I went through hell and a series of mostly crappy people.

Will has been like the Al of my help. Al was the best relationship until Shawn. Will was the best caregiver since Erica. He started in September and we've barely fought. He's a good roommate _and_ a good assistant. Not perfect by any long shot, but damn good. And I find that I can say that I'm lucky to have had Will in my life.

The happier I am in my life, the more I miss Shawn. As if now I'm less foggy mentally, the more the person I shared everything with I noticeably miss. But hopefully that will pass. I'm planning on selling the bands from the rings and sending him the diamond from his mother back to him. Getting a coverup of our matching tattoos.

Trying to not let his absolute silence hurt and not hang on to the pipe dream of reconciliation. His pushing for the divorce so fast it made my head spin devastated me. His changing of certain promises added to that. But I can still want my soul mate back, even if I know he's not really there.

Enough of the maudlin shit.

I've clean clothes and blankets thanks to Will handling my laundry tonight. I've had a really horrible health night. My esophagitis is acting up. So badly I had PT cancel because for most of today I sounded like absolute shit. My voice just gets so bad when I've got vomit coming up to the back of my mouth over and over. The acid burns my throat so bad I start croaking.

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.

Need to figure out what to do. Should I really fight for the ground floor one-bedroom or should I search for the great vegetarian roommate who wants to walk my dogs for a discount off their rent or should I see if there's another Will I can find?

Don't know. Any friendly suggestions welcome. Always. ;-p