Written yesterday and left completely unedited:

The never met expecations. There aren't any anymore. My first instinct is to say, see, you were right all along. This is what I should've done ages ago. But, in keeping with my usual style, I stick with the idea that without the last three months, I wouldn't have anything to compare my current situation with. Likewise, another of my great fears is debunked somewhat: you can't ever move backwards. I suppose though, in all fairness this is more of a lateral move more than one up or down. Whatever it is, with all of your help, it feels like home. For the first time in a year now, I just realized it (I moved out of my apartment at the end of last April), I'm at home. The window's open and the birds are chirping up a storm, perhaps at the orange cat meowing down in the bushes, maybe at the rowdy neighbors cooking out.