I moved through the front door into the space.
Here I would sit drinking my morning coffee and reading.
The space now barren emptied of all meaning.
Memories, hopes, dreams missing from the world buried in memory.
The person I loved for 13 years now waiting to sign the documents brought by a friendly soul who had no context.
Such an interesting juxtaposition, a person I’ll recall forever and one I won’t remember in a month.
Irony, everyone is now here in what used to be my space.
I held love, safety, hope and a future here — now it’s just good for a transaction.
As the papers are shuffled the signatures completed.
I walk through what was once my place — it’s now just a shell.
Am I just a shell?
No, I have grown so much, I’m verdant, alive… In touch with me.
I walk from the kitchen to the bedroom hallway.
Rooms I’d hoped would be filled with my children — it’s ok plans change.
The room I’d occupied for close to a year.
The bathroom that became mine as I was moved out of the master.
An office, that never made a dollar but cost plenty.
Colorful, beautiful, staged just like the marriage for the past six years.
The master bedroom, a place I got to stay and keep a bit of my stuff.
A place where I was always a visitor.
Wandering to the back of the house I arrive to the original living room and my office.
Very comfortable spaces to my mind.
Laughs, cuddles, smiles and conversation — apparently not enough.
I built a lot here, systems, technology and the deep understanding of myself.
I look for my boy Peyton, sunning himself on the carpet.
Oh, that’s right, like the house and me, he had to go.
It’s good to be done here.
I’m no longer. Here in this space and my heart is long gone.