“Dad. She’s gone, alright. She’s been gone for months.”
I dropped the dish I was washing at the time, and watched it fall to the sink, where it shattered, and left shards of glass everywhere, “I know! You don’t think I know? I know!”
Every minute of every day I knew she was gone. I didn’t even sleep in our bed anymore. I slept on a cot I parked next to the bed. My son didn’t know that. Like he didn’t know I didn’t use the bathroom off the master bedroom. I used the hallway bathroom.
Because she was gone. And I couldn’t be in those places anymore.
He stood there, staring at me, as I started to dig glass shards out of the sink. “You need to move on!”
“No!” I turned the water off, and let everything fall back into the sink. “No!” I turned to face him. “You don’t understand.”
Just like that I had to hold on to the counter to keep from sinking to my knees. Just like that it was everything I could do to keep from shattering like that dish had.
“She was all I had.” He’d made me stop. Made me think. “I know she’s gone. But she’s the only reason I had for staying here, in this world. She was the reason I didn’t…” I couldn’t finish that sentence.
He stood there, silent. After a bit, I recovered, “All things considered, I think I can pretend she’s still here.”
248 Words
@mysoulstears
It’s Week 523 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the stories in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read. And there are some great writers who show up every week.
My Soul's Tears 