Member-only story
Leave The Light On
But Please Don’t Wait For Me To Come Home
I drive by the old house and stop across the street. I’ve avoided it for years, purposely taking a wide detour every time business takes me back to this town, which it thankfully rarely does.
Today I came here on purpose. The one place I’ve been avoiding for so long. Haunted by ghosts and bleeding raw memories. I know every tree in the wood, old familiar faces. Trees last much longer than we do, witnessing it all.
The light is on inside and shadows move about. The new owners have painted the front door a different color and there is an unfamiliar car parked outside. But other than that, it is all the same, like we’d never left. Although nothing could be further from the truth.
I see a flashback of the children giggling as they played outside, tagging each other and running to and fro. All is quiet now, no more swing set or bike leaning against the garage. All gone. Probably some empty nesters. In our house.
I was different then. Whole. I had the self-confidence of someone who knows their place, where they belong, surrounded by loved ones, knowing my job was to love them. Now I am a drifter, moving place to place, totally different from that time, not getting attached, knowing it is pointless to hold on.
