It’s been almost six months that Robert has been gone, but I still can’t get used to living alone. For months after the accident I didn’t touch ...nything in the house. His coat still hung on the hook next to back door, his toothbrush was still in the drawer by the sink. My mother had told me to pack everything up. She said to take it to the Salvation Army or give it to someone. That was closure, how we dealt with losing someone. I couldn’t do it, not entirely anyway. After about a month I did. "My parents should be at work by now," I whispered in her ear. "Let me go make sure." And with a quick smooch, I got up and made for the door, not bothering to dress. Jen sure wouldn't mind. I had never walked through my own house naked before, but it was wonderful. I felt so free and powerful. It was odd. But I made my way downstairs, feeling the passing air on my bare skin, and peeked around the corner. Nobody home. Good news. Walking back into my bedroom, I didn't bother to shut the door.. More

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