Two weeks tomorrow.
I spend most of the day clearing out the office, going through all of the drawers and little corners where things collect. I go through every pocket thoroughly, even when I get so weary of the task that I want nothing more than to close the drawer back up, put the lid back on the box, come back to it tomorrow. I sort through every stack of paper, pull down every picture and postcard off of the memo board, read every letter and birthday card. Many of them go into a box in the garage. I cannot bring myself to get rid of them, but I am compelled to pull all of them down.
I move around the rest of the house, but there isn't much left anyway. One drawer in the buffet and half a dozen snapshots in frames. I change out all but two of the pictures. If my printer worked, it would all have been done today. I resolve to find another printer tomorrow. I clear out the buffet, and there isn't even anything significant enough for me to set aside for him. Expired coupons and a handful of screws. Only clutter.
I wander around again with a home staging eye. Have I missed anything? If someone new walked through, someone who had never met us together, would they have any idea? Did I leave a note tacked on the refrigerator, or some little trinket that hinted at a marriage? But no, aside from those two photos on the stairs, there is nothing.
I have erased him.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Wednesday, December 07, 2011
"There's a point where 'I will show you how amazing I am, and you'll (love me more/be sorry you did this to me/be humbled by my coolness)' becomes simply 'I am amazing.' Not to make it all about me, but I know that feeling, because I've had it for a while now. It's why I know that I'm going to be O.K.
"And why I know that you are, too."
- Me to Doc, December 7, 2011
Posted by SuzannaBanana at 11:41 AM