I know I should be unpacking and cleaning. I know that I would even be more comfortable inside with the a/c instead of melting out here on the patio where it is still ridiculously hot at 6:30 pm. There are so many other things I could be doing rather than finally deciding to put this out there in the world, yet here I am.
I miss you.
When you launch yourself into single-hood with nobody else waiting in the wings it allows for some serious time for reflection. I know we made the right choice. It just wasn’t getting any better, was it? Well, it was, but too slowly. We both felt like we were waiting for you to catch up and neither of us liked it. And we sure didn’t understand each other at all. Not even a little bit. I think we would have been frustrated forever. I know we would have.
But lately, when I come home from work at night, I miss having you there. I miss hearing you click away on your keyboard while I started to cook us dinner. I miss eating in front of the television and enduring bad Star Trek re-runs. I miss movie nights with organic burgers, and I miss Battlestar Gallactica with Tofutti. I miss taking the dog to the beach with you, watching you laugh with delight as you taught him how to swim, and then going to grab lunch on the board walk. I miss the Sunday morning dog park visits followed by brunch. I even miss the motorcycle rides that ended in ribs and fries. I miss the rare few times when I really felt like you were happy.
I don’t miss the ten pounds I’ve lost since we broke up.
Eventually, there will come a time when someone else will come along and I will create new rituals and habits with them. I just can’t imagine it though. I’m sure that has something to do with the fact that my home is a shambles. Could it be that I’m avoiding all of my housework because I’m just not ready to move on yet? I’m not ready to have a functional home?
That little revelation was just the boost I needed to at least put the kitchen dishes away and vacum.
Rule #4 for the Fortress of Solitude: Keep your physical environment the way you would like your mental environment to look. (I assure you, I don’t want mine dusty, cluttered, and covered in sheets.)