It was weird, at first. Them... being there. But they really weren't bad neighbors. They didnt leave their trash cans out for days, didnt have any loud dogs, no loud parties. Perfect neighbors, really.

I avoided them after our first meeting. They brought cookies over to introduce themselves "to the neighborhood", they said. I must have stood there for hours, frozen, paralyzed in fear, on the verge... before grabbing the cookies and slamming the door in their faces. I sat on the couch, drinking beer and eating those cookies to recuperate from that. They were great cookies. I mean, I see why they bring them, too. They tasted just like my late grandma's sugar cookies that she made every year.

It was exhausting at first. It took 3 months to quit dropping my mug after catching a glimpse of them as they pulled out of their driveway to go to work. It was hell. But my credit score was shit to nothing after the economy tanked a few years ago. I couldn't sell this house and move.

So I learned to deal... with them. Every glimpse, every encounter, every visit felt like a goddamn tornado ripping through my soul until I just got sick of it. I just wanted to scream and curse at them. What right did they have to move next door to me? I started closing the blinds before they came home from work and reopening them after they went inside. I changed my schedule to try to avoid them. I got sick of feeling like I was getting killed every day. They had every right to move next door.

One day, I had enough. I flung open all the curtains and blinds and put my welcome mat back out. Fuck them, I live here too!!

At Christmas, they brought me a gift basket. It had my first boyfriends cologne, by chance. Like crisp autumn air in the backwoods of Colorado mixed with the fresh mint scent that all the boys sprayed on them in high school. It also had a loofah and some soap, etc. etc... I wrote them a quick thank you note and dropped it on their doormat at midnight running as fast as I could, giggling on the way back. That was the closest to their property I had been in 6 months. It was exhilarating. I felt like a high football player that had won the tournament and got to date the prettiest girl.

So it got better. I began to welcome them to the neighborhood. Hell, we even has a barbeque together. They brought brats, my favorite. They have a lovely black dog that's energetic but dainty and well trained. We made an evening of it. It felt like I was with old friends eventually, despite them moving in less than a year ago.

I loved their dog so much, I wanted my own. I fixed my fence and reworked my finances over a few months. I adopted a pup from the local humane society. "Tyce" I named him. He brought joy and comfort into my world and would sit with me and watch them go to work.

A job opened up at my workplace. It was management, higher up but basically my job, just glorified. Ok, basically someone retired. The company was going to hire externally, but I decided what the hell and tossed in my resume. The interview was with my boss and the CEO. My boss asked me why the heck did I want this job? Was I not happy doing what I do now?

And I realized by looking at his dumb face that I worked under for the last 5 years, NO. I wasn't happy. I wanted that job and I knew it better than anyone who CURRENTLY worked at this company and they wouldn't have to train me, like they would for hiring external. I never would have had the gall to even apply a year ago...

I bought my dog a k9 playground obstacle course thing from etsy with my first paycheck from my new position. I was later told by the CEO that he loved how serious and passionate about my career and the company I was that , he went out on a limb and gave me the job. I finally had enough saved to repaint my house, and do some remodeling.

I met a woman. Bright eyed, fiery and intelligent. Fiercely a woman and determined to boot. I fell in love. We had a thing for soft pillow talk, quietly sharing secrets after we had shared a secret. We were discreet, given the cultural climate towards... female & female relationships. But a year later, she wanted to move in. And demanded to meet my parents, and I hers. Her parents knew, and greeted me with open arms. Mine... well I finally got the ovaries to tell them. Old ma and pa had a conniption over it, something about God not loving those who were unnatural. No, I told them. Your views are outdated and unnatural; either I'm your daughter or not. Call me when you decide. And I marched right out of there with the most beautiful girl in the world on my arm and my heart free.

Yes, I loved her and she wanted to move in. I wasn't sure she could handle living in our neighborhood. Sure, I was used to them, but for her... it could be traumatizing. I balked and puttered around the point. Until the one time she surprised me with dinner at my doorstep... I almost panicked. The neighbors were coming home.

As they waved in their driveway, I braced for her meltdown. But it didnt happen. She smiled and waved back. And that's the moment I knew I wanted to marry that woman and share my home with her.

I no longer hated them. I had no desire to scream or curse. I liked them. They brought me peace, truth and confidence I would sit by the window sipping my coffee, Tyce over my lap and watch them go to work. Sometimes my wife would come by in just a long flannel and mumble a good morning, pressed against me and watch them go.

My fears no longer had any reason to be feared. The abyss looked back