No matter how many apartments we have lived in alone, or together, I have never really felt ‘on my own’.
I suppose it’s because of all the space you and D seemed to take up in my day, even if we only had one real conversation a week.
I have made the right decisions though, so this is a long time coming.
(The sun just forced it’s way through the depth of rain and cloud cover. I can’t see it, but just enough light is getting through and it’s changed the color cast of my living room. It is almost four o’clock in the afternoon.
I sleep more here. Something I should be grateful for, but instead I have guilt.
I picture you smiling at me now, rolling your eyes at nameless guilt, all over a little lazy sunlight.)
I talked to our girl last night. She called me late, after the babies were asleep, and sounded misplaced.
She talked about all the boxes everywhere and her blank walls. I thought about our talk this morning, and how you called me a ‘blank canvas’, and all I feel like is one of those blank walls in her apartment. Waiting for something to cover me.
I couldn’t say it back to you though. Not when you told me that I am living the dream.
I hate it when you’re right.
But I want you to know that I see it that way because of your love and support.
The sun just came out completely.
I’ll write more tomorrow.