Summertime Sadness

I exhausted myself to the porch swing out front.

The grass had just begun to turn from that dirty winter brown to a lush green.

Soon I would be able to skim my feet across its blades.

I poured myself a glass of iced tea into that old mason jar you used to love drinking out of.

I never really cared for it, until now.

The grounds would need cleaning up soon.

Before I knew it, the hot summer heat would hit.

The neighbors bikes would litter the front yard.

The tree swing would sway in the wind from the light breezes from off the lake.

July was always my favorite month.

Something about the humidity, the brandy slushes we'd drink at night and the fireworks that lit up the sky around the water.

Summer won't be the same without you.

I won't be the same.

Even now, I'm cursed with anxiety just thinking of keeping up with this house.

How excited we were twelve years ago, when we first purchased it.

We'd promise to take care of it together.

The rooms would be filled with children.

The dog would play in the back.

We'd create a lush garden.

The smell of the freshly watered plants always made my knees week.

Something you took advantage of often.

The picnics under the stars.

The vacations across country in your beat up station wagon.

My tight shorts and long blonde locks.

You shirtless, with a pair of ratty cut off jean shorts.

The smell of coconut from the tanning oil.

I always loved to watch you work.

One of my favorite things.

You, always so intricate.

Lost in your own world.

The laid back parties.

Bottles of wine and cases of beer.

Sylvester and ABBA records while we hand rolled our cigarettes and joints.

This....

These are the memories of this house.

And as I gaze at the For Sale sign staked on the front lawn, I cringe a little.

I cringe, because this house will now make new memories.

And our lives together before the accident were happy.

Because we were going to spend our last days together.

Even the bad ones.

Like everything else, you've gone and followed through on that promise.

But this time we can't scream and shout like we always did.

And make up apologizing with passionate love.

I love you my dear.

And while I don't believe in heaven or hell.

Or the after life.

I truly believe, that one day we'll meet again.

In another life.

Maybe even as particles.

Until then, I want you to know that I feel you every day.

Through this house.

Always in my heart.