Getting Over Things

I packed up the last of your things on Tuesday morning, I sent them off. I tried not to think about what they meant to me. I knew it wouldn’t be good to keep them around, just clutter, and I already hoard too many thoughts to keep yours around after you’re gone. I threw all our picture frames out and dyed my hair red, they say making a change can help with getting over things. I don’t feel different, I feel like you’re gone, and it still hurts, and the house is still empty, and your coffin is still full. I feel like I should have burned your body, gotten it off the earth, just a dust in the air, I could scatter a few of your ashes everywhere, so wherever you go, I know you’ll always be with me, carried in the wind. I threw out your old hoodie on Tuesday, and the bracelet you gave me, your journal that I found, and a box of valentine’s day chocolates under our bed. I sold the ring and watched tv Wednesday. They say loss takes time to get over, but it’s been months, and I still feel the shock. At the funeral, your mom cried and talked about how kind you were. I don’t think she knew you all that well. Your relatives gave eulogies, and the clouds poured rain. When I got to the hospital, the doctors said it was too late, I learned there are a lot of fancy ways to say someone’s neck snapped on a noose. I think about you often, it is not on occasion that I remember the days I thought about breaking up with you, then stopped myself, I guess this has just made things easier. I remember the fights, the house just seems so much quieter, even though it is a little colder, there is so much more peace, I didn’t think good things could come of death. I knew that this was never going to be easy to get over. On Friday night I collected my things and stepped on a train, the last traces of you erased completely from my life, your voice and face, only in memory now. I will let them go eventually along with everything else, off to the dump, or goodwill, or a pawn shop. When I decided to kill you, I didn’t know it would take so long to recover, I didn’t know I’d miss you, but now, even though things are so much clearer, I still have a lot to get over pertaining to you. I didn’t think I loved you enough to miss you, but here we are, I do not feel guilt, you were not a good man, but I still feel like a part of me has been cut out. Anyways, I’m moving to New York now, I’m making a life for myself outside of being your house wife. If time heals all wounds, then surely this is nothing to be fussed over, you are only a mere thought now. My therapist told me a while ago to slay my dragons, and I have to say, I’m doing so much better. 

-Grace