There has been much thought this week given to moving on. It has been five and a half weeks now since "the day," and all the signs that he gives is that of no return. I have been asked several times about even if he wanted to come back, would I still want to take him back. I really do not know. It would be the hardest choice to make. He would have to do some serious proving of himself. There are just too many stories now of all that he has been up to this last year.
I took down some pics over the weekend, and today, I cleaned out the master bedroom of his belongings. It was just too painful to continue looking at the stuff day after day. He took only the items that he uses daily when he left. I filled two boxes of suits, ties, and other "church clothes" that he had smugly told me he wouldn't be needing anytime soon. I lovingly filled four boxes of his things and labeled what was in them. I soaked in his smell that I have loved for all these years, and my eyes filled with tears as it hit me that I would probably never fell his closeness again. I also filled three boxes with our wedding pics and things from our dating years. I resisted the urge to sit down and look through everything. I tucked them away in a safe place in the attic- the kids will want them someday, I'm sure. They need to know there were many happy days with Daddy. I do feel emptiness, but also a hope that the future holds something better for us.