adjusting to an empty house

i came home to an empty house on Monday. It was the first night since she’d left for good. Riding down the path i realised i was still looking out for her car parked on the roadside. Even though things have been tough between us, the sight of her car or bicycle has always lifted my spirits. It didnt matter that a few minutes later we could be fighting, knowing that she was in our house doing her own thing was comforting and never failed to spark a bit of joy in me.

The other night Kate dropped by. She’d just been going through a relationship breakup, one where her ex was calling her every night until she told him that she needed a real break to move on. I told her about how we’d been split up for 8 months and that that was probably the longest I’d ever been single. Kate laughed (in a very nice way). Living with your ex doesnt count as being single, she said. Monday is the first day of the rest of your life.

OK, she didnt actually say that last bit but she might as well have.


One of the ways our house is designed is that our bedrooms are seperated by the length of the house. I got the front room which is closest to the road and is noisy small and dingy. She got the back room which is extensive, bright and looks out on the back garden. This arrangement suited us when we were together because the front room was mainly a study. Of course, since we broke up, I’ve been sleeping in the front room and feeling increasingly cramped. I’d been looking forward to moving my things to the rear bedroom but I havent yet been able to bring myself to do it. Perhaps tonight.

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