As he gathered the last of his bags, he turned to look at the house one last time. Everything looked exactly like the way they had planned it that night when they signed the papers of the house. They had dreamt together to own a place, and they had arranged to buy it just in time for their wedding. And that is where they went for their honeymoon, to their very first home.
The place was filled with sounds of their voices, their laughter, his music, her singing, the smells of the food they cooked together and the people they entertained together. It was their sanctuary, a place where they came back to unwind after a tiring day.
She had left her impression in every part of their home; each corner was adorned with love. You could tell she was happy and proud and wanted to scream it out to everybody who entered their home. He looked around to find the framed maple leaf that was the first work of art that colored their living room. They had handpicked it on one of their romantic walks one fall. If the things in the house could talk, each one would have a story to tell, a story of their origin, of their existence and of the love that they saw grow everyday.
He had decided to move out just a week before and had had very little time to organize the move. You could tell by the way he had packed. He looked around and his gaze stopped at the kitchen. He set the bags down and walked towards it. He was standing there feeling the cold granite countertop when a sense of warmth swept through him. He closed his eyes and saw her cooking in there. She looked up with that same look in her eyes and smiled at him, that smile had made his day, every single day. He smiled now and looked at the hazy shaking images of the empty room. He walked out of the room fast, determined not to look back.
He stood at the foot of the stairs deciding whether to go up to the bedroom or not. He could feel his heart beat fast and his legs shake as he began to ascend the stairs. He could hear her voice call out to him from upstairs, his pace quickened and then he came to a stop when he heard the front door. He turned around to see his wife, ‘Hurry lets leave’, she said in a stern tone. She really seemed to be in a hurry today, she had waited enough for two years for him to accept her, for him to welcome her into his house and make it their home, for him to leave behind his past.
He had been promising to his wife that he would leave behind his past and erase all her memories. He had finally decided to do so, when moving into their new house, in fear of being left alone again, just as he had been five years ago.