Today I had to return to my 'old' workspace, to collect some final things we had left behind. It felt strange, to be in the place where for so many years, it had been my work-home; a place where many moments have passed - some joyfully memorable and others I would prefer to forget.
Now, the rooms sit empty - a shadow of what they once were; suddenly the peeling paint and imperfections are more noticeable - a burden to the beholders eye; and echoes of nothing where the walls once bounced with laughter are oddly cold now.
I had to go into John's old office, to pull some personal things off the walls. I stood for a time, in my loneliness, at the very spot he once sat - it was a sobering moment to realise that the place he once occupied was now empty - not only in that room, but within me too.
I still think about him from time to time, and momentarily wonder how he is and what he is doing, but it is an old habit that washes over me quickly now, as I realise he scarcely has the same regard for me. I miss him, I do - but I think now I look upon him like a fragment of nostalgia - much like how one might pass a photograph on a shelf, briefly stop and maybe smile as they recall the moment the picture was taken. I do not measure the distance between us anymore; like a weighty balloon, it has finally lifted and floated away.
Mostly I am left with disappointment, because we used to support each other - and it would've been in times like these - this week - this month, that it would have counted. Today would have been a nice day for someone to ask me "are you ok?"
Why yes, I think mostly, I am. Best of all, the way I'm feeling has nothing to do with him anymore.