The Ruins of My Marriage
It is still standing, but barely. It may look find from a distance, but look closely, it’s so damaged it can’t be fixed.
See the notice on the front window to the left of the door? It says to leave the breakers off because the electricity has been cut. There are two padlocks on the front door.
Abused, abandoned, foreclosed, forgotten. The ceiling is falling in in places. Water has lifted the flooring beyond repair.
Children played here. My children. Happy voices.
Once this area was filled with blossoms, torches lit the night and people mingled, drinks clinking, soft music playing.
A doting grandmother lived in a guest house out back. Her grandchildren, my children had free reign to wander from our house to hers.
A tennis court provided a safe space to ride bikes and run around.
My children learned to swim here. Birthday and sports teams celebrated here during the summers.
It looks as bad inside as it does outside. We redid this house for my mother to live in. Only animals live like this.
We did not own a boat.
We used to sit here on summer nights. A marriage proposal happened here during one of our summer parties.
Only one of the torch supports remains. The rest lie in pieces around the yard, ripped out and broken during some drug or drug induced rage by goodness knows who.
The electric has been cut and the septic pipe lies gaping. The basement likely has standing water in it. There is so much mold I suspect the house will need to be torn down.
This is where our family lived for 13 years. This house was filled with 5 and sometimes 6 laughing and happy people. 3 small children had so many firsts here it is impossible to list them all. They will never see these photos, but someone should.
This is the last place we were all happy. My world began to fall apart the year we moved from here, but it was crumbling long before that.
My husband will be served with divorce papers this week.