Lonely Boy
I hate being in this house right now. Everything reminds me of Allison, good things and bad things both. There’s the living room, with the sage green walls that she agonized over choosing, and one day she found the perfect paint chip and she had the most irresistible smile on her face for days. I can still remember that exact smile. I still remember kissing her. I hate going outside. She adored the island grill, the outdoor fireplaces and the dock for the boats that I made myself.
I remember how she filled up the outdoor sinks with water and nurtured the little gosling that she found stuck under the dock. I remember how she burned down the outdoor umbrella because when she was mad at me she threw a candle and missed. She was a terrible toss. I just don’t know how to go on living here, when she’s more present than she was when she was alive. She’s everywhere, taunting me, beside me, and I miss her. I love her, and everything around here is her. I can’t break away from her; I can’t move on. I’m not even positive if I want to, because this is the only slice I have left of her. It’s killing me, I hate it, but I love it too.
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