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Trying to cope without him |
Ever since he died I've gotten into the strangest habits. I have the fears you would expect, that drive me to leave all the lights on and sleep with the radio for company. I find myself setting the alarm for 6am, so he can get up for work. I serve two plates of dinner and still cook chicken rather than pork, just to please him. When I put on my make-up I turn around, expecting him to be there to compliment me. I feel angry at him for leaving his shoes at the door. But he hasn't left them there, and I don't remember doing it. Each evening I switch the channel over whenever the news starts, because he hates watching it. Hated, I mean. At 5.50pm I stop whatever I'm doing and give the house a quick clean. I wait with the door open at 6pm, just to check whether he'll be coming home again. When my girlfriends phone and invite me out I pause, almost saying 'I'll ask him if he minds." He never minded. I don't suppose he'll start now. When I go into town I fetch a chocolate eclair for him. Then I stare at it all niht because I don't eat them, and he can't anymore. When people ask for my opinions I find myself saying his opinions. Somebody has to now he can't. I laugh when I break wind because he always did. If I didn't the silence would be deafening. I'm more aware of silence now, because I was always the quiet one. I used to tell him to shut up; to give me some peace. Now I hate peace. I sing to myself just for the sense of company. Songs he liked, of course. And I talk to him constantly. It's almost like revenge. I can imagine him wishing for a silence I won't allow him. I tell him everything, even though I believe he watches me. I spend hours each night reading old diaries and apologising for each time I was angry with him. Each day I wear my hair in a plait; his favourite style. I want to be perfect for him. My family tell me to move on; to live. They don't understand the irony. How can I live if I move on? He was my reason to live. |