The house is cold, like the day we made it our home. That seemed a lifetime ago, when things were easier, happier. I trail my fingertips along the dust coated staircase, leaving long lines of chaos. When had it all fallen apart?
The house is empty now, save the memories. We were happy here, you and I. But you’re gone, and I’m still here. Do you remember our dreams? A family; traveling the world; growing old together. They’re far away, now.
It’s impossible to venture further. I turn and walk out the door. If I linger, I don’t look back.