It was the 10 mile yard sale this weekend. I put it all out there. Watched keepsakes walk away for 25 cents. I didn’t
feel a thing about it, not sad or mad or anything. I figure that’s okay, in so
far as I was half of a thing and the other half of it felt nothing about any of
this, so I’m just providing the other half of Nothing now, an accommodating mate
to the end (ha). That’s what it’s like
mostly. With rare jolts of feeling-exception, I feel like one of those target dummies made of straw, flammable maybe
but otherwise inert.
I sat outside on the driveway with the kids until it was
all gone. It was pleasant, like porch sitting.
Neighbor: How much for the chair?
Me: (shrug) 2 bucks?
TJ: Why did you sell your own chair?
Me: I didn’t – there were two of them, remember?
TJ: O yeah.
Me: I’m letting all this stuff go to make new pleasant
memories for other people, and embracing my spinsterhood.
TJ: You’re not a spinster.
Me: (shrug)
TJ: I mean, that doesn’t seem like the right word.
Me: What is the right word?
Don’t say MILF, I’m super not in the mood lol..
TJ: (thoughtful face)
Widow.
Me: Well, hmmmmm. I
married my high school sweetheart. He
died this year of pancreatic cancer. I
am alone now. All of those sentences are technically true.
TJ: That’s right!
Me: Okay, Widow shall be my word.
 |
| Ha. |
I write a lot, trying to get to feeling some things, then I
look back at it the next day and take away any feeling that didn’t stick, was
actually just a fleeting thought, and that’s mostly all of it. I know I must probably be feeling
something. Like yesterday when I woke up
I had been crying in my sleep. But I couldn’t remember the dream, and I didn’t feel
sad, I just felt wet.
I sleep a lot.
