As the Uhaul packed full of her worldly possessions turned out of sight, I was left with my thoughts on the all too familiar, worn front steps. After two incredible years living together, her room was empty, our house was empty, and my heart, felt the most empty.
I tried to remember the sound of Saturday mornings. Waking up to stories from the night before, sharing coffee on the back patio, talking life, loss and our latest crushes.
I listened hard, hoping to hear the sound of her cooking up a storm in the kitchen or deep cleaning every inch of our old, brick home.
I breathed in deep. Soaking in every dinner party, every movie night, all the mornings we spent complaining about work and each and every dinner we shared accompanied of course, by our favorite red wine.
And then I let it go.
I let the emptiness fade.
I closed the door on our chapter.
And opened the door to the next.