on bagels, breadboxes and laundry baskets.

The bagels were still where I hurriedly left them.
They were in their bag in the middle of the counter by the sink. Nothing belongs in the middle of my counter. The box of baby wipes was still empty since I had used the last one on the dogs’ feet last Wednesday. The box top was purposefully left open, so it would be known that it needed replacing. Over a week’s worth of mail sat in a clumsy pile on the kitchen table next to a basket of laundry. Laundry does not belong in the middle of my kitchen. I knew all the bills that were probably in that pile had been paid, but he did not.
You’re back, he said sleepy-eyed.
There’s some paperwork I needed for the refinancing.
To put it in your name? he asked.
I nodded, And I wanted to check on the dogs.
They bounced on my toes and knocked over my suitcase – my dogs, that is. I let them smell the unfamiliarity and newness on me as I watched him ascend the stairs to go back to bed. I knew it was after midnight but the clock on the stove was still blinking 2:46pm from the windstorm that blew through the day after I left the house. It did not feel like mine anymore but I needed to try to reclaim it, to take something for myself since he never took care of anything I gave him anyway. I was going to take the toothpaste, shampoo and spare panties out of my car’s trunk and put the bagels back in the breadbox. I knew I’d somehow find home again, with someone else perhaps. But I wondered how he was going to fare without me.

14 thoughts on “on bagels, breadboxes and laundry baskets.

  1. The same as when your presence “is” , what it looks like when you are gone, he lives as though you were still there, the same when he’s alone.

    Just reading between the lines here. Love this piece.

  2. Beautifully written and captured… the everyday things that inevitably get caught in the spaces between the transitions we make in our lives. Things like bagels and laundry laying where they aren’t supposed to be. Funny I’ve been kicking around some similar thoughts in my mind these days as I feel caught between 2 worlds again. The first time—what you are experiencing now—and this time (7 years later) finally moving on with the “new one” that stuck. But still there is the transition. And still there are things in places where they do not belong. You may have inspired me and if so, I really hope you don’t mind. If I produce something inspired from this post of yours I will link to this and give proper credit where credit is due. Thank you, friend. I am thinking of you.

    1. Happy to have read and felt not so alone in this feeling of upheaval, and to see that it happens in more positive situations, as well. Pleased to have been some inspiration to you.

      1. THANK YOU. I hope you feel properly credited for this and that you are getting some additional traffic on your blog. You are a wonderful writer! It’s always good when others can find out too!

  3. It is funny how the little things in a relationship can wear it down. I used to return home from a long commute to a sloppy house where I literally had to do a triple jump to get into bed. I am no neat freak, but I do have a limit or tolerance threshold. I guess I could have used my free-time to clean the house and pick-up…but then you enter the realm of potentially even more friction.

    1. As I recall, you also used to return home after stopping at Whole Foods to shop for the dinner. Enough is fucking enough.

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