Gone

I have finally moved out, something I have been contemplating for the past two years.   I’ve shed off the baggage that’s been bogging me down incessantly and the constant nagging and bitching is gone, but as I begin to take in the quite and calm surroundings of my new home I can’t help but feel a sting of nostalgia, I might have the bathroom all to myself but the solitary toothbrush in the glass reminds me of a loneliness that once only she could fill, I shrug off that thought by reminding myself that there are plenty of women out there willing to accommodate a successful and wealthy man such as myself.   As I fix myself a dinner of spaghetti and fried eggs I’m suddenly hit by a longing for the roast chicken and potatoes that used to be our Thursday night tradition, even after the fighting started the baked potatoes were always a silent testimony to the warmth in the good times that had preceded the bitter quarrels and bickering.   I hear the patter of little feet and I turn my head wondering what little Victor is doing up so late, instead of his beautiful wide brown eyes and moon round face my gaze falls upon a rat as it scurries across the kitchen floor dragging a half eaten apple to its hiding place,   How could I have let myself be deceived, I need my old life back, even though the unhappiness had sometimes been unbearable, there was always the comforting knowledge of my three old son waiting to be hugged and kissed and held till he fell asleep, now he was miles away wondering whether my promises of forever him and I were nothing but lies.   As I slump into an arm chair, my spaghetti uneaten, my club beer unopened, I stare away into the distance, looking at nothing but seeing everything, the truth comes into focus, the life that I crave for was lost a long time ago, the dream that I am trying to hold onto so desperately was irretrievably sucked away even before it became apparent that we were not meant to be.