Lonely town

I've live most of my life in this small town that I know, nothing out of the ordinary. At least for me, we have all the seasons, and all the houses have a Victorian setting to them. Yes, I'm sorry... It's.. Odd you see.. I am the only left that lives in this town, I don't understand why... I mean.. All the houses are well kept, we have tourists every once in a while, but other than that no one lives here but me. I thought that everyone went on vacation, but that couldn't be right.. EVERYONE? No.. No one can plan a trip of that many people that quickly.. Let alone never come back, maybe it's just me? I don't know honestly, I've been here for years and never seen a house up for sale, or a house being bought.. When I sit outside and look at my house, I.. I get this haunted feeling, that I'm suppose to live and die here. It couldn't be right, the windows looking like eyes that peer into my soul, giving me a "welcome home" feeling that didn't want to make me leave. I think it could be loneliness, I.. I'm getting a headache from the thought. It just.. I've been alone for so long, and with my house giving off the feeling I should stay here doesn't help. It could be just I never lived outside this town before and I'm nervous about trying, but I have one here! NO ONE!! All I have is houses! No one to chat to! What am I supposed to do!? Chat with a house?!?! That is literally impossible, calm down girl. Get a grip, you're overreacting again...
I have to get away, not forever.. Just a vacation or something.. I know, I'll go visit some family in another city, just to ease my mind about being alone.. But.. I wouldn't feel right leaving my house alone, someone could break in if I'm not here.. I can try calling them to talk about it, but for now I am tired. Looking out these old stained glass windows can be so lovely in the winter. That's it, I can go in the summer, it get a little humid anyway. For now though, I'm done writing in my journal about today's thoughts and events of my mind.. Hopefully my journal doesn't go missing again.. I always seem to forget it every night and it is place somewhere unnatural. For example, places I couldn't reach, let alone never thought of putting there. Oh well, maybe it's just me being protective of my privacy.. What I always thought was odd... The dates in my journals change.. But.. The entries are almost exactly a-like, it feels like I'm rewriting the same thing over and over again.. Why? It could be that I do the same thing on a daily bases to the point where I never noticed it before.. Or.. Could it be something else? Anyway, I digress. I'm quite tired and I need sleep. To this diary entry September 24, 1962. I bid you, goodnight.