The road to reality

April 19, 2009

Not long after the yelling has finished drying the tears, the silence welcomes the dull emptiness where all my senses sour. I was there today… less than two miles from our house. I am not sure if it was better or worse that I did not go down that road. I still saw you on that deck, watching our baby girl splash and coo in her pool. I saw you , in the early morning before the sun had an opportunity to burn our eyes, when I always felt you were the most beautiful. I saw your hands kissing all the surfaces of our home, knitting your purpose into my plans. I saw you revealing your excitement of being a Southern girl again. You were the happiest I had ever known you to be. So much, but I never went by; instead, I drove through town in slow motion annoyed at the laughter of reality. Oh, if I could only exist in memories, we would be together again, always. But, the red light on Broad and a left turn at Kimbrells and my senses spoil again. ‘The radio is annoying!’ I turn it off but the loudness of quiet makes a shoddy substitute. I turn it back on where it is an indistinguishable hum. ‘Is that latin?’ I’m back to you and the last date I took you on, a Wednesday night wine tasting and dinner at Maestros Café. I remember coming home a little early from work that day and telling you that you had 15 minutes to get ready. “15 minutes to get ready for what? Are we going somewhere? Is Linen going?” I had called Heather that Sunday and she was on her way over to watch Linen. I can see your eyes now, equal parts excitement and anxiety over your now 14 minutes.

How can I still feel the depth of this cut? Why do I feel closer to you now… here? It makes me question the corner stones of perception and reality and in what capacity I exist. And then I question what it matters. “What does anything matter?” And, I can’t go down that road today, much like I couldn’t go down that road to our home. But, I am there anyway in that inevitable place after the yelling has dried my tears and the laughter of the silence echos off my walls of lonliness and emptiness. This is my reality.


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