Like I Did

I drove by our house today.
It was shocking.
Notices on the front door and window.
Tumbleweeds in the flower beds and along the side.
The fence and gates ripped from their moorings.
Shutters faded from time.
The lawn bush-mowed and irregular.
It is the sore spot in the neighborhood.

I peered into the windows.
The paint color was different,
but the countertops and cabinets were still there.
The flooring.
Still traces of us.
It was smaller than I remembered.

I know there is some flowery words that should come now.
Some way to tie the house to our relationship.
The ruins. The abhorrence. The wasting-away.
The wishings of a future and yet the reality of what really was.
The symbol of your dominance and what it is now to me.

All of those things are true, but I also feel sad.
It was a good house.
Full of time with true friends.
Of whispered secrets and desires.
Of learning and laughter.
Mostly without you.
It was a safe-haven for me.
I'm sorry to see it dilapidated.
I hope it will resurrect and find a lover.
Because if I've learned anything,
it's that there is always hope and new life
for those who work hard and see beyond the obvious.
I hope it will have a new life beyond the wreckage
like I did.

September 30, 2018