I’ve done some dumb shit in my life. I’ve made some dumb ass mistakes. I’ve put my faith in the wrong people. I’ve made unhealthy choices. I’ve basically just been a human, you know. Sometimes I get it right. Most of the time I don’t.

Tuesday I had an appointment to pick out appliances for the new house. Exciting, I know. I feel about appliances pretty much the same way I feel about light fixtures – couldn’t give 2 shits. I’d like a refrigerator that keeps my food cold, freezer keeps the ice frozen, oven cooks shit, microwave heats shit up, dishwasher washes shit. Those were my requirements. Doesn’t seem complicated, right? Well, technically it was not complicated. However, I hopped in my car, turned it on (because one must turn the car on before it will actually drive in case you didn’t know) and the radio comes on. And playing on the radio is Maroon 5’s “Memories”. And that’s when the tears first started.

Ash and I loved furniture shopping. We would do it more often than was necessary in our spare time. (Just to be clear, I hated doing any other kind of shopping with Ash. And I mean HATED. I am a get in, get what you need, get the hell out type of gal. Ash was the polar opposite. He tried things on. He googled reviews. He tried things on again. He walked around aimlessly to “think” about what he just tried on. Shopping with him was my own personal hell. Some of our biggest fights happened because of these very opposite shopping habits.) However, furniture shopping together was a hobby at which we excelled. (Probably wasn’t a hobby and probably not something at which one can excel but whatever.) We had a favorite local furniture store. And if you guessed that I was headed to that favorite local furniture store to pick out appliances, well ding, ding, ding, you’ve won (absolutely nothing other than maybe a boost in your pride).

So, stupid song is on (not a stupid song, I really do like it a lot but just wasn’t what I needed to hear at that particular moment in time), headed to favorite furniture store and Kellie is crying. Again. (Same shit, different day?! Not really, I’m mostly fine. It’s fine. Everything is fine.) It just got me thinking that Ash is really gone. Gone, gone. I will never see him again. Which, obviously I know that. I’m not completely crazy. Yet. But it was quite devastating to me. I will never furniture shop with him again. We will never grab a coffee and leisurely meander, holding hands, always holding hands, through the throngs of couches and recliners and end tables that we don’t need but certainly want to peruse. We will never dream of the day when we build our own home, to our own taste and outfit it just the way we want. I am doing those things, but I am doing them completely alone. And on Tuesday I felt that aloneness deep in my soul, in a way I haven’t felt it in quite a long time. Every little step I take is a step further away from him. It’s a step to the future that does not include him. And while my rational mind is always aware of that, my heart sometimes forgets. Luckily, a good friend called half way on my journey to the furniture store and I reined in my devastation and had a lovely chat for the rest of my ride.

Appliance ordering took me about 15 minutes (I told you I didn’t give 2 shits). Fridge: check. Range: check. Dishwasher: check. Microwave: check. Washer and dryer: check, check. My earlier pain wasn’t forgotten but had been put on the back burner while I checked things off the list.

However, and this is the part where I get to doing the dumb shit in my life, I figured since I’d made the 35 minute drive, and I do have a brand new house in the works that will need to be furnished with some brand new items, perhaps I should take a look around, see what they have, maybe, dare I say, order a new thing or two. And so I did. And I did order a few things that will be here sometime before my kids leave for college (thank you Covid for making everything impossible to get in a timely manner). But that earlier pain came rushing back as I couch hopped. I was doing one of my favorite things without my favorite person. And it sucked. I had to put my sunglasses on for a bit because I knew I looked pathetic, moving from couch to couch, with tears streaming down my face. Although, the sunglasses did probably made me look crazy (or hungover), and I hate to beat a dead horse here, but I am a *touch* crazy and I accepted that long ago.

I did eventually get my shit together and get the hell out of the furniture store. I let a few more tears out on the drive home and then I got on with the business of being the bad ass (ha ha) that I am. But for a few hours, I grieved. Hard core. Because I shopped for furniture alone. Because I’m making our dreams come true alone. Because I feel so alone.