Living alone means you always know where your things are. There’s no one to put the sugar on the wrong shelf. Nobody to fold the kitchen towels, then stack them in the linen closet. Or, leave every light on in the house.
Living alone simplifies everything. No opposition when picking a movie. Meals made easier with only one set of taste buds to consider.
Daily routines are never compromised by the needs of another.
Then one day you stand motionless in the middle of a room and realize you’ve lost your way. It’s such an odd thing to lose.
Why is the daily routine so important? You have no schedule to follow, no reason to have lunch exactly at noon. Or supper at six.
Is it truly necessary to get out of bed by seven? Is it necessary to get out of bed at all?
Old habits keep you moving. Hunger pangs remind you to throw a plastic tray into the microwave.
The dark tells you it’s time to go to bed. The sun insists it’s time to rise.
One day you find you’ve lost your voice. It’s such an odd thing to lose.
Good morning no longer falls from your smiling lips. No one asks what you want to do today.
You look in the mirror at eyes that cried through the night while you slept. The lips in the reflection no longer to smile at you.
The silence of the house surrounds you. Every movement you make echoes through the empty rooms that used to be your home.
Finally, you just lose it.
It, is such an odd thing to lose.
You've made loneliness sound so beautiful in spite of all the pain! Love it!
ReplyDeleteI like how you use the repetition as the stable point to highlight how everything is falling apart.
ReplyDeleteSomehow, you made the words slow down more at the end of your piece. It's as if I was living in your writing, wrapped up in a fast pace of life, and I realized suddenly I was alone. Beautifully done.
ReplyDelete