Empty
Even when we first moved here together, 6-1/2 years ago, we brought an animal with us. A spider. Wolfie. This is the first time ever, since then, that there are no animals in the house.
I never took a single moment of my time with my wife for granted. I knew that life is short, and I have no regrets in that area. But I do admit, I vastly underestimated opening the front door and having something, anything, rush to greet me.
When my wife first died, it was sad. It was unbearably sad, but still warm. She was everywhere, and in everything, all around me.
Suddenly that's changed. It's just an empty shell now. Not even like a broken toy thrown in the trash. More like an empty candy wrapper. Worthless trash because the thing it once contained is gone.
Have you ever walked into a place, and felt something wrong? Maybe like it was haunted, but not in a halloween kind of way. Like a burning feeling in your gut that you need to get the fuck out right now. It's like that all the time now. Needless to say I don't sleep.
We were married here. Lived here. Died here. These walls have seen laughter, joy, and above all love. But it's all distant from me now.
The home has been stolen from my house. This is not my home. There is no life here.
LM
I never took a single moment of my time with my wife for granted. I knew that life is short, and I have no regrets in that area. But I do admit, I vastly underestimated opening the front door and having something, anything, rush to greet me.
When my wife first died, it was sad. It was unbearably sad, but still warm. She was everywhere, and in everything, all around me.
Suddenly that's changed. It's just an empty shell now. Not even like a broken toy thrown in the trash. More like an empty candy wrapper. Worthless trash because the thing it once contained is gone.
Have you ever walked into a place, and felt something wrong? Maybe like it was haunted, but not in a halloween kind of way. Like a burning feeling in your gut that you need to get the fuck out right now. It's like that all the time now. Needless to say I don't sleep.
We were married here. Lived here. Died here. These walls have seen laughter, joy, and above all love. But it's all distant from me now.
The home has been stolen from my house. This is not my home. There is no life here.
LM