Photos on the floor

The golden marigolds sat in a crystal vase on the piano. I’d found the vase in a cupboard under the fancy plates. Photos had fallen out from under it.

I laid the photos out on the floor and stared at them. The marigolds looking down at me from above. Yesterday those flowers had sat upon his casket in the church as I cried in the front pew.

The photos from our wedding, from high school and other random ones brought the tears back and I sobbed. Big, loud, ugly tears flowed and dripped on to the photos.

The house was filled with people yesterday. All said they were sorry for my loss, that they are here for me, that they would help wherever they can.

Today I sit on the floor alone in our house.

Alone.

This is my life now. Alone.

It all happened so quick. He went to work and never came home. Someone had wanted money and had taken his life. His life for the few dollars in his pocket.

His beautiful eyes will never look at me again. I’ll never again hear his laugh or see his smile. I’ll never be able to roll my eyes at his jokes.

All the silly tiffs flowed through my mind and the tears flowed too. I regretted every terrible thing I had said in the heat of the moment, every time I’d slammed a door or not tried to make up quicker.

The sad memories led on to the happy times. We laughed often, we had long conversations and loved each other deeply. We told each other how much we loved each other constantly and I know he knew just how much I cared for him. Maybe one day that knowledge will bring me peace but today it made this all the harder.

I wore his hoodie that he wore around the house. Covered in holes and thin spots it was barely warm anymore, but I could feel him close to me having it on. I could smell him and was worried that if I wore it too much it would lose his scent.

My phone dinged and I dragged my eyes away from the photos before me and reached for my mobile. A message had come from my sister wanting to take me out for a coffee.

The idea of leaving the house made me physically sick. At this point I felt like I would never leave the house again. There was no need to leave, I reasoned. Everything can be delivered these days and I had enough money for the time being to not have to think about it.

I messaged my sister back. No thanks.

My phone dinged again, and I ignored it.

My mind felt cloudy and my body was heavy and even though it was only midday I headed upstairs to have a shower and go to bed.

The shower washed away my tears and freshened my face but didn't erase the thoughts. Him smiling at me, the feel of him holding my hand, how scared he must have felt when he was murdered. Murdered. I still couldn't process it. How could someone just take this sweet soul?

I brushed my hair and teeth and closed the curtains to the beautiful day outside. Laying on the bed I imagined his arms around me once again. I almost had myself believing that he was here with me as I fell asleep. I knew he would come to me in my dreams and being asleep was a happier place than being awake. I hoped tomorrow would be better but knew that it would be a long time before I felt any different.