The silence is so loud.
Two weeks ago, I was excited, anticipating my parents’ trip to my place for the first time since I moved here. Work days went fast. Hours were minutes. I couldn’t wait.
Barely more than a week ago, they arrived on a Saturday, with smiles, love and that feeling everything was all right. Christmas was coming and I would not be alone. Nor would they.
God, wasn’t it just yesterday that Dad and I were out riding the bikes – him still tired from a red-eye drive from 13 hours away?
It had to have been around then that Mom was asking what we wanted to do for dinner, making my apartment smell like a home until I was trapped within the illusion that this feeling would last.
God, time flies like a bullet train.
Now the house is deathly quiet. Lifeless.
I trip over one of Kalista’s sippy cups on the way to my computer to remind me it’s over. Hours before, it had been wrapped in her little hand. Now, they are separated. Apart. Estranged.
I hate being with people some days, can’t live without someone on others. For the night of this day, I’ll settle for remnants of them. I have no choice.
Being in love with money makes things easy, for it’s always there to embrace you. But being rich with family and love is difficult and elusive … it can be gone as soon as it comes.
And there’s nothing you can do about it.