Reality And Memories

Work went ok today. I think things will go well there. Maybe I can even find an open position somewhere in the department before July. One can only hope.

I made friends with a secretary downstairs that handles the parking for the building and managed to get a spot at an unheard of monthly rate for State employees. I told her I was only a temp and she said, didn't matter. I wasn't about to argue. (Its right across the street).

We spent quite a while talking about the building, itself, and the memories of the place.
It was built in 1913 (I believe). When it was repurchased in 1985, the new owner had the carpet torn out to reveal the original marble floors and spent the time and money to have the original woodwork redone.

They even managed a way to keep the old mail chutes running. Remember those? My mom would slap my hand because I loved to open them up (I could barely reach) and feel the breeze blowing. Believe me, it was worth getting my hand slapped.

It was nice talking to someone else who remembered, really remembered being downtown when it was still downtown. We talked about the businesses that were there and the ones that are gone now..

After a bit I realized I'd been gone longer than I had planned and headed back upstairs. Up the marble and wood stairs. I love those stairs.
The elevators still have the original buttons in them. They are in surprisingly good shape. Don't know how they managed that.

And before I knew it, it was 5:00pm and time to go home. After the initial rush of relief of having the workday over (which lasts about two minutes), I'm driving home from work, like always, and my heart just...sinks, like always. I realize.

There's no one to come home to. No one to wait for who will be home soon. No one. Just..no one. And there won't be. That's something I'll never get used to again.

It reminds me of a scene from a movie that I saw.
Its near the end, but that one scene just sums up everything that I've tried to say, wanted to say, for so so long and just never found the right words.

It goes something like, "I didn't want what I didn't know I didn't have. I had a good life. I was blissfully unaware of how miserable I was and now I'm acutely aware of how unhappy I was. Thank you for that!"

It was something like that.
But it just figures, in that moment in time, that precise moment. It was probably a month ago already, but I remember it like yesterday.

Sitting there on the sofa, me and my dogs, crocheting, watching a stupid move. How sad. But I remember thinking, yes. Yes...YES!! That's exactly it. That's exactly what I've been trying to convey all this time. Some English major, hu?

And no matter how hard I try, I just can't go back to being blissfully unaware anymore. I just can't make it happen.
This isn't a self-induced prison, nothing could be more wrong. Its beyond my "self".
I keep waiting for the day to come when it doesn't matter anymore; doesn't bother me; doesn't occur to me; I don't care.
The more time that goes by, the more days that string up, they don't make the burden -- the feeling -- lighter. It grows heavier. And this haunts me.

If this isn't understood, I don't know how to make it any more plain than that.
I don't know which is worse. Knowing you've missed the love of your life and may never have them back again, and not being able to move an inch except for faking it when you have to.
Or knowing you were with someone you really loved, made plans with, made promises of getting old, and then being able to just move on from that.

I know what the latter is like. I've been there. I've done that. I've gotten past these things before.
But that's what is haunting me.
Why was I able to do that then? Why am I not able to do that now?