Friday, 18 March 2011


The sun is starting to set as I walk up our road, cars pass on their journey home the sky a reddish pink colour as the sun starts too set. I lift my head slightly from looking at the grey damp pavements knowing that the car isn't there but still looking anyway.

I walk up our pathway and put my key in the lock, twisting and turning it until it bites hoping that this time it doesn't break in the lock, that we should have got fixed months ago but never did. I push the door open and pick up the post from the floor, and then it hits me, the silence. No one is in the house, its getting dark, and I'm on my own and I'm not sure I like it.

There aren't any kids running towards me saying hello, you're not sitting on the settee cup of tea in your hand, the house is empty and very, very quiet. I walk into the kitchen more in hope than anything else that someone will be there but knowing in my heart that they aren't. I take my coat off and hang it over the door as I always do and chuck my bag on the floor. What am I going to do with myself I wonder?.

It seemed to be a great idea when you first said you were going away for the weekend with your aunts and mum, the kids would stay at your dads for the night and I could have some peace and quiet too write my book. It all seemed so easy, but now on my own in this house, no noise, no kids to play with and you to kiss, its feels empty and cold and I don't like it.

When I said goodbye to the people at work tonight it didn't dawn on me that they may be the last people I would talk too for the next 48 hours. I always thought I wanted to live on my own one day, like I had missed out on something in my life meeting as we did at 17. Now though I realise I am terrible on my own, I hate the coldness of the house, the quietness of it all.

I find the note you left me saying you love me and to enjoy myself, some money attached to it for a take-away too treat myself with. I have an empty feeling inside as if something is missing from here, then I realise what it is. Ive known since the moment I walked through the door, you're not here and neither are they.

I'm missing the noise and the arguments, the tears and the laughter, the sound of you asking me how my day was, even though you know Ill moan about it, but you listen and tell me it will be okay as you always do. I'm missing you telling the kids to go to bed and the kisses they give me. I'm missing you telling me its getting late and to get on the laptop and finish the book. I'm missing you.

It may be a house, and Ill cope I'm sure, but it wont feel like a home until you are all back in it with me.


  1. I haven't spent very much of my life on my own so I can understand where you are coming from. I hope you do get to enjoy your time apart and get some writing done. They will be back before you know it.

  2. My wife and little one go away for a week to spring harvest each Easter. I really hate being on my own.