I don’t want to go home.

I am trying to focus on staying positive and moving forward in my life, but there is one place I cannot seem to do that: my home.

My almost-brand-new apartment that I moved into over the summer is a source of contentment now every time I walk in the door.  Firstly, I haven’t deep cleaned since N left a few weeks ago and secondly, I still feel his presence here despite my efforts to prance around and dance.

I can’t look at one of my bar stools without remembering him sitting there, eating breakfast with me.  Or open a drawer without thinking I will find one of his love notes that he left me the day he was leaving.  I have collected almost all of them (to my knowledge).  Every gift he gave me, every trinket, I placed in a box just this morning.  He gave some beautiful decor, but seeing that while I am in this state is too debilitating right now.

I even had most of my frames filled with pictures of he and I.  Nope, had to change them back.  I feel like in trying to erase his memory, I’m all the more focusing on it.  And, of course, in typing right now, my focus is on him.

What I need to do is clean, rearrange and get this energy out of my house.  It feels like it’s weighing down heavily on my chest.  I will be leaving in a few hours to travel to work about 5 hours away, but rest assured this weekend, I will be cleaning my home from top to bottom.  Well, except for my office which is an absolute disaster.  That will have to wait a while, and luckily, I have no memories of him in there.

I laughed and smiled more today than I have in weeks.  Friends and people from all over have sent me such uplifting messages of hope and perseverance.  I can feel they want me to get over this hump so that I, Mathieu, am back like I used to be.

I’m getting there.  Everyone tells me “time heals all.”  Well, walking around outside listening to some heartbreak anthems seem to be doing the trick, as well.  But I suppose that is all intertwined into time.  Each moment that passes is another moment I survived the devastation.  I survived his words and his disappointment in me, and he clearly will survive mine in him.

The one bright side I feel to me suffering like this now is that I know him.  It won’t hit him until much later (if it does).  He can easily focus on other things in his life and put things off whereas I cannot.  I become so zoned in on the issues at hand that it consumes me.  But once the consumption, depression, and anger stages subside, I start to see hope.  I feel he will see hope instantly, then fall into being consumed, depressed, and angry which may be hard to overcome.

I wonder if he dreams of me.  I wonder how I am in his dreams if he does.  But I shouldn’t wonder these things.  They just tie me back into the trap of wondering, “Does he still think of me?”  I won’t ever stop thinking of him anytime soon.  But I will be able to lessen how much I think of him; how often I wonder how he’s doing; if he actually misses me.  I’ll be far and away in my own thinking by that time, I’m sure, that any negativity I hold for him will be a thing of the past.

I’ll be able to come home each day with a smile on my face knowing I am safe, happy and secure.


One thought on “I don’t want to go home.

  1. You are one of the strongest people I know. It’ll get easier the longer you hang in there.
    Glad you are getting it out in a creative way. You are a really good writer. Which begs the question: how could you have kept this talent from me for all these years?

    Liked by 1 person

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