A Sunday Evening

          I’m lonely.  The hours between six and eleven pm can be some of the longest, quietist hours of my day.  This is the time when my street settles down and families retreat indoors to share dinner.  This is the time when a husband and wife should be cooking dinner, sharing stories and putting their babies to bed.  I do these things alone.  This evening I quietly gave Marley a bath, put her pajamas on, fed, snuggled and sang her to sleep.  I cleaned up a bit, poured a bowl of cereal and sat alone at my kitchen table.   I try so hard, fight everyday in fact, to not let my heart drowned in thoughts of what might have been.  Tonight I gave in, allowed myself to remember.  I remembered late last summer, sitting on the front porch with Ry, drinking wine and talking about nothing and at the same time, everything.  I miss so badly having a person to share my nothings with.  This small nuance of marriage is what I miss the most.  I didn’t ask for a single life, yet here I am.  I loved being married in every way and still cannot believe I sit here today alone, single and sad.  Missing the life I had, remembering the person I shared everything with and wondering what next…