On the day that you left, I decided to take out the trash. You see, it’s been a week and the trash are piling up. I can’t seem to breath in the house without reminding myself of you and the tons of trash that are rotting. I can smell it even in the dining room or even when you left and slammed the door.
On the day that you left, I decided to change the covers of our bed. It smells awful, something to do with you being so sweaty at night. Or the mess that we usually make in bed. The house seems really smelly these days, even the new covers remind me of our laundry time, bath time and any other time we used to enjoy together.
On the day that you left, I decided to vacuum the carpet. There were stains that I couldn’t even take away. You’re a little bit clumsy when you eat during our movie marathons. Remember the time you spilled the popcorn on the carpet, well, I found some of the popcorn today.
On the day that you left, I throw away all the papers in my office drawer. They are too many to handle, if I keep them they’ll just invite some more bugs at home. They’ve been there for almost six years already, I think it’s high time that I throw them away. Hmm, it was just a bunch of mementos that I’ve kept: the first note, the first love letter, first movie ticket, first hotel ticket and some other firsts that I think were not important now.
On the day that you left, I clean up our wine rack. Clean up means I almost drowned myself with too much wine. It’s funny how I can still remember the day you came home with a fresh wine in your hands and we celebrated your big promotion. It’s that kind of happiness that seems to be elusive on the last days of our marriage.
On the day that you left, I remembered the day you first kissed me. I remembered the way you kneel in front of me to propose. I remembered the day we had this house, the excitement and every little details that we enjoyed together. It’s like I’m watching someone else’s memory or a movie, since those two people who took a vow about forever seems to be far away now.
You see, on the day that you left I was reminded of how happy we were. What happened? I thought that on the day that we would part our ways, I would hate you and the failure that we were to each other. I thought I will remember the fights, the screaming, the cold silences but I didn’t. I remembered the happy times, the sweet times, the way you would fall asleep smiling and the way you would open your eyes in the morning. I remembered the way you look, with or without clothes, and the way your eyes would shine when you’re surprising me.
You see, on the day that you left I was reminded of our happy times together and I wasn’t ready to face them. I was ready to hate you, to soak myself in the bitterness of our failures but I didn’t. It was the sweetest memories that were tearing my heart open.
It was your smile and not your coldness.
It was your happiness and not your sadness.
It was your laughter and never your shouts.
It was your kiss and not your cold hands.
On the day that you left, I realized that I still have some cleaning to do.