Sometimes I Walk Around

Sometimes I walk around this house, our home, and I wonder if I will be able to stay here. How long can I stay here?

I wonder if I will ever be able to look around and not see you everywhere?

Or if I would even want to.

Will I always clutch you close, never moving on if I stay here?

Will I ever create my own, new life without you if I stay?

Will I stop living my life and live in the past the only way I can, in my mind?

Will I ever let you go?

Or be okay letting go?

Will I ever be okay again?

Will I ever see this place without you in it?

Will that become the norm someday, being here without you?

Will I end up living here for more time than we did together?

We bought it together.

Our perfect little townhouse in our hometown.

We were excited.

All our plans and little projects. All the repairs, little by little we were getting there.

We made it our own over our last seven years.

Still more in the works, our shelves over the desk were coming soon.

It sits empty still, the wall still bare.

I changed the curtains in our bedroom.

You would love it.

I wish you could see them, I hate that you cannot.,

We were about to put hardwood floors upstairs.

You finally had me on board with knocking down the wall by the kitchen and making it an island.

Moving the pantry and refrigerator to the wall we share with the neighbors.

I could finally imagine your vision.

How could I do those things without you?

How could I change anything now that you are gone?

How can I get rid of the things that we picked together?

How can I change anything now that you are gone, knowing you will never see it?

How can I live here, frozen in time?

How can I let it go?

How can I walk away and leave our home, our dreams?

How will I stay here without you?

Can I bear to stay here without you?

As always, I would love your comments, feedback, or stories.