The Vacant Room

I revisit this vacant room, shrouding the memories of provocative correspondence. But only periodically.

Not for any significant reason other than the fact that these memories in a way seem to help me cope with the loss.

Or maybe it's the only lie that works for now.

My thoughts quickly fill up with possible actions reserved for those who simply are not me.

A fine layer of dust and sorrow has settled upon this collection of relics.

I serve as sole patron and curator of my own hall of regret.

And so I take one more look around with an inhale and a sigh and reluctantly close the door behind me.

Consciously deciding to leave it unlocked until the next time I need something to remind me of the past reality that overshadows my present dream.