Life after the death of the person you love is weird.

It is confusing.

Mind numbing.

Empty.

Lacklustre.

And, a bunch of other feelings and things.

I’m sitting in my car typing this. 

I’m parked in the culdesac across from what used to be Mike’s house.

Our house. 

The place where our little love story all began…

I’m here because after running errands and taking myself out for dinner,  I have nowhere to be.

I don’t belong anywhere.

Mike’s death has displaced me.

I’m untethered in suburbia.

 

So, I came here and parked in the culdesac to be close to a place that used to be home.  I came here to be close to a place where I once belonged.  I needed to be close to the memories of the happiest days of my life.  But, I sit here and I feel nothing.  I feel everything and nothing all at once.

Maybe I feel sadness.  And, a desperate yearning for what used to be.  But, mostly I feel a big bunch of nothingness. Nearly four years after his sudden death, I feel nothing.

I’m looking at the house and it is just a shell.  The memories of Mike live inside me. The memories of he and I are locked into my heart.  Our memories replay on repeat in my mind.  But, they are nothing more than memories.  Flashbacks to the past.  A past I love so very much.  A past that is over.

There is nothing more that will be added to the story of Mike and I.  Being close to the house doesn’t bring him back to life.  It doesn’t even really refresh my memories.  Sitting here, across from the house, hasn’t done much of anything except maybe pronounce the loss.

There is no place I can to go to feel content because my sense of contentment wasn’t a place.  It was him.  He gave me a sense of peace.  He was my refuge.  He was my soft place to land at the end of the day.  And, now that he is gone I am drifting without direction in the world.  A world that he is no longer a part of.  It is unfathomable to me that I am here and he is not.  I think a part of me will always seek him.  And, logically I know that he is nowhere to be found.  It is just me now.  I accept this in my head and heart, so why am I here trying to resuscitate a man who is long dead?  There is no answer this question.

It has been many years since I’ve been inside the house I am looking at.  But, still, I know it by heart.  I could walk through it by feel.  And, in a very real sense that’s how Mike is to me now.  I know him by heart and feel, even though it’s been so very, very long since I’ve felt him.  I know him.  I loved him and I still love him.  I don’t know much, but this I know.

I’m going to drive home to my place.  It is where I belong, at least for now…

~Staci