I said, “Goodbye,” to my house yesterday, the house I owned with Ex. I spent most of one day emptying it with the help of my irreplaceable and helpful mom, boyfriend, and a long-time friend. Yesterday, I took one last walk-through before giving it a gentle “thanks for all the good times” pat on the wall.
The day before that, I visited Ex’s death site. I thought it would be good for me to bid adieu to him there. My grief counselor suggested it last winter, but I hadn’t felt ready. I walked up to the chosen spot behind my old house and examined it like I had done 9-and-a-half months ago. The dog poop that had been at his feet had dried up. The blood and brain goo had returned to the earth.
I looked back at the house from his hiding spot and remembered the vantage point he had from there. Ex could see everything, whether or not Little Guy stayed in the house, me picking up and leaving with Little Guy, while Ex stayed camouflaged behind some greenery. I looked back at his spot one more time, then started back to the house. “Sucker,” I said with disgust, but I said a word that rhymes with “sucker.”
I realized how mad I still feel. I couldn’t muster a “Bye” or anything nice, and if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. But I was all alone, so I said whatever I felt as I walked down that hill. Thankfully, Ex had bought a copy of Feelings Buried Alive Never Die by Karol K. Truman about 12 years ago and never read it. Mom and I found it while packing up the books, and I thought it might be a good idea if I read it. I have to forgive Ex somehow, sometime, and I wouldn’t want to bury my anger and frustration. Into the laundry basket the book goes for laundromat reading!
I took the rest of yesterday off. I didn’t feel all that sad. By the end of the day, I felt relieved that I don’t have to think or stress about the old house anymore. Shin sent a text yesterday asking how I was. I told him that I looked forward to having nights where thoughts of the old house and its fate wouldn’t keep me up anymore. I slept well last night and fell asleep almost as soon as I laid down. I didn’t lie in bed with anxious thoughts, and I didn’t cry with sadness over the possibility of losing my house. I slept.
Cheers to forgiveness, closure, and restful nights!