The Ocean House

Today I let go of many things I used to love. It was painful but left me more relieved than I had been in a long time. I miss the picture of the ocean house that once hung above my desk. It reminded me of you and my heart hurt so I took it down. I’m glad I did, but wish I hadn’t.

You came over to drop something off and we talked like we used to, until we were reminded of why things changed and our smiles faded and we parted ways. And I thought about the picture and why I took it down. I wish things were different.

I wish writing letters was still a thing but it isn’t, just like friendships, nothing’s personal anymore. I sometimes wait in silence on the phone for someone to ask me how I’m doing, but they never do, so it just feels awkward. The true response to that question is too difficult to deal with, just like writing letters.

Children burst in, interrupting my sad thoughts with laughter, which is frustrating but also keeps me from drowning in sorrows. They save me daily, those kids. They like my ocean house picture too. Maybe it could remind me of them.

 

 

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