true love waits

Since she left, I've kept the house just the way it was. I want her to come back and see that nothing has changed. I'm still here. Everything is still here, just the way she left it. For a few weeks I'd still let people come over, but it became too much of a hassle to make sure everything was right where it was. Sometimes I had to piece it together from old photographs, and sometimes it wasn't possible to get it perfect. I know she'll notice.

I allow myself a little change in the kitchen and in the guest room where I spend my days, but it's only for the necessities--eating and sleeping, mostly. Even then I clean up after myself as much as possible. Sometimes I read one of the books that's been laying around, but only if doing so wouldn't disturb anything for long.

When I can't stand the emptiness anymore I'll go for a walk. Around me the neighborhood's changing. It's fall, and everyone's decorating for Halloween. Some of the houses seem to be creeping into decay as time wears. They don't care or understand. They have nothing to preserve. I always start to get aggravated, and the perfection of home calms me down. And so I sit and wait. That's what people do.