Something is Missing

I noted how quiet my phone has been lately. Sure, there are
some calls from friends and family from time to time, but one person
is conspicuous by his absence.

The car has been sitting in the garage for weeks. I need
to run it at some point, but there’s just something off about it
just sitting there, unused.

When I walk into the house, the first thing I see
is the green recliner, sitting as empty as it had been
since the day they had to take you to the hospital
because you could no longer walk.

The bedroom is still a mess. I just can’t get myself
to start going through everything and see what should
go into the estate sale. That thought hits me like a punch
to the gut.

Going into the kitchen hits harder than any
other part of the house. That was your domain.
Helping you cook was always an adventure, but
now, I’m cooking for one.

I was making mac and cheese with meatballs the
other day, and it hit me so hard, I ran into my bedroom
and cried. It came to a head at that moment just
how alone I have become.

Twenty-five years you were there. I could look
in one or two rooms and find you. If you needed me,
I could hear you no matter where I was in the house.
We would call each other over the phone regularly.

I go home, and the only greeting I get is from the cats.
I look around, and see you in everything.
Half expecting to see you lying in bed, watching TV,
but you’re not there.

In the kitchen, I keep thinking that I will
see you at your place at the table, working on something
on your laptop, until I remember that I have it now, and
your seat is empty still

Yes, so many have said for me to call them for any reason
if only to have someone to talk to. I try to bring myself
to tap the numbers, or even look for them online to chat.
I fail nearly every time.
This is not good for me, but I can’t
break this cycle...yet. There may yet
come a time where I will find it easier
to pick up the phone and just call someone

just to talk. Just to interact. Just to know that
I’m not alone in the crowd. That day will come
and I will welcome it. Until then, I will just deal
with this pain, until time heals it.

Until then, I will keep missing you
Until then, the house will keep missing someone
Until then, the tears will occasionally fall
Until then...