Somerville

Somerville reminds me of Chris. Something about the rows of two and three family homes lining the streets brings me immediately back to the frist couple of months we knew each other.

The houses, close together, separated by chain link fences, remind me of the white, three story apartment house on Waterhouse Street in Teele Square where Chris lived when we met. There is an emotion related to the view down that street, to most of the streets in Somerville for that matter. Those are the same streets that held hope for us, for our future and promises that we would live together, grow together and continue to love together.

Today, as I sat on my friend’s sofa in her apartment just outside of Davis Square, I glanced outside. The slant of the window sill against the backdrop of the street below and the window framing the neighborhood outside replaced my lightness with panic.

The red house across the street reminded me of Chris. The window sill reminded me of Chris. The street, the cars outside, Sunday, the weather, the basic feel of the afternoon all reminded me of Chris in such a way that I felt as though he could come walking down the street any minute.

I would watch as he approached the house and tap on the window when he got close enough to hear. He would look up and smile and I would wait for him to come upstairs where I would wrap my arms around his neck without speaking a word, just feeling him with me, the scent of his Old Spice deodorant filling the air around us.

He would break the embrace. If it were up to me, I would never let go.

I miss the days when Chris was well. I miss the days when we thought he would, once again, be well. We had plans. We had love. I had my adorable best friend and I was foolish, believing he would be with me forever.

I don’t want him to be dead. Part of me died when he died. Most of me died when Chris died.

I’m trying really hard to continue living my life, but sometimes it feels impossible. Sometimes I just want to curl up on the couch under my blanket and cry and cry until I’m shriveled up and dehydrated.

Today, I would much rather have not cried. I had a wonderful day, an eight-mile walk, the sun came out and I was happy and laughing.

I should never have looked out the window.

Shneed.