There are no simple words to explain how it is living with an ex (be it spouse, partner, lover or what have you). It's like living with a ghost. An odd sort of purgatory. Life, the mundane parts of life, just keep on going. Defiantly laughing in your face that nothing is, nor ever will be, the same. You wake up, you eat, you work, you pay bills, you talk about the weather, you put one foot in front of the other and go about your day and then you go to sleep. The routine. Every once in a while, in those very routine, ongoing parts of life I'll catch a glimpse of how things used to be. Those times while watching a movie on separate sides of the couch, I'll catch the shadowed outline of a head resting on a shoulder, or while cooking dinner hear a faint laugh and see a shimmer of figures dancing. The hauntings of times passed. Times, that for better or worse, are destined to not happen again.
For better or worse... Till death...
The hopes of the naive.
