I spent the first couple weeks just trying not to have a breakdown.
I would say I spent the days going through the motions, but there were hardly any motions to go through. I was still working reduced hours from home – say, 20 hours a week – but that leaves a whole lot of hours in a week to...to do what, exactly?
I had no other responsibilities. I had to keep the cats fed and I had to keep the house clean so that someone would want to buy it. And the rest of the time was...
...it was completely empty.
I imagine nowadays it would’ve been different. There’d have been blogging. I think of what I read Purl going through and I am envious because I didn’t find knitting and I didn’t find blogging.
If I had had blogging, I could give you something like the beautiful posts I see her write, about her going through her motions and then suddenly faltering because something unexpected sent her over the edge. That happened to me, too. But I couldn’t tell you about it because I don’t remember. That is precisely the stuff I didn’t commit to memory because it is something I just wanted to get through.
* * * * * *
It was like sitting on fault line before an earthquake you knew was coming.
I would sit on my sofa at night and put on the television and drink a cocktail and know that nothing was going to stay in its place. When all was said and done, the sofa, the TV, the cocktail shaker, I, were all going to land in a different place.
It was so quiet in the house at night. Even though the earthquake was coming.
* * * * * *
The first few weeks with David were civil. He was living with his parents. He would talk to me like a human being and he would come and we would have lunch and discuss logistics. How much we thought the house would sell for. What my living arrangements might be.
He even agreed to go to the movies with me a couple times. I was lonely and scared and I refused to believe it was happening. I wanted to feel some comfort, somewhere. I took comfort in denial.
But it didn’t last. Ignoring reality never does.