Photo credit

Photo credit

Being married at the young age of 18, and now in my fifties, I remember the day vividly.

September 15th 2011 was the first time I started living alone. I was extremely busy most of the day, cleaning, and shopping for groceries, and small appliances.

When I sat down to rest, the reality of being along begin to overwhelm me.  It formed a burning pit in my stomach. I started visualizing the future of cooking for myself, eating alone, and knowing how much I will miss the sound of a voice, even though the words were no longer loving, they were harsh; a cutting edge to a bleeding heart. Nevertheless, it was a voice and the walls didn’t smother me, and the ceiling collapse into the floor, and I was the matted carpet to walk on. At least, not every day.

Once the day turned dark, I cringed when I looked at the bed. I had to sleep alone. It was cold and uninviting even with the exhaustion that had consumed my body from the day’s activities.

Exhaustion of the body, didn’t take precedence over the pondering mind. The nights turned to days, and I continue to toss these same thoughts month after month. Which have added up to a couple of years.

I hope and pray that someday, I will not sleep alone, and eat alone. I’m not meant to live alone.

2:57 PM

Vera Jackson © 2013