The End

This is my last night writing in my house. Because tomorrow night I will either be frantically packing everything in sight or I will be eating everything in sight to empty out the fridge. Either way – I won’t be writing.

Then again, maybe tomorrow night I will just wander around the house saying goodbye to every single crevice in each and every wall. I will walk on every step, spin around every room and try and take it all in. Try and remember what this house feels like. I don’t really know how to say goodbye to a house. Every time I moved I was excited about leaving – happy. Not this time. I hate goodbyes. Leaving this house is just another loss – and I know it is not the same as losing my husband. It is just all mixed up together and feels - well I am not sure how it feels. I am numb and the words just aren’t coming so easily tonight.

I am grasping here, but I want to remember moving to this house with my husband and two year old son. I want to remember bringing my newborn girl home. I want to remember the children learning how to walk in this house, potty train and read. I want to remember all the wonderful birthday parties, moms gone wild and New Year’s Day parties we had here. I want to remember you lying in bed reading to the children and then sitting on the couch watching Fox News with a carton of ice cream in your holey sweat pants.

I need to try and suck every morsel of good times we had in this house and bring them with me. Because tonight all I see is the kitchen table where I found your suicide note and the police coming into my kitchen to tell me you are dead. It is hard to think of good times, when all I can think about is how just six short months ago I sat Shiva for you in this house.

Numb still. Like I am standing just outside my body and watching this all unfold. Like everything that has happened - it doesn’t feel like this really happened to me. I am just an outsider viewing this person go through so much tragedy and awfulness. I feel bad for her, but I don’t feel bad. I feel nothing at all.

This worries me. I am waiting for the utter despair to just hit me so hard I literally break into pieces.

I am just sitting here in my kitchen and looking around and seeing you everywhere. I am a walking contradiction. I am moving to change my life and yet I just want everything to stay the same. I want to know I will see your ghost and yet I hate the way your ghost stops me in my tracks.

I don’t know what I want. Yes I do. I want the tears to stop rolling down my face so I can type. I must be fooling myself when I said I wasn’t upset tonight. I think I am beyond what upset feels like, so I don’t have the words.

I can’t write anymore tonight.