and my heart sinks like a stone

tell me does this mean you're moving on
this morning i sat outside a coffee shop across the street from my house, the burnt house (that's what we call it to differentiate from "new rental" and "old rental"), i watched as all the trucks rolled in for another day of work. stripping the house down to it's bones. before the floor was put back on over the new foundation we found a cat skeleton. all fangs and ominousness.
from the balcony you call my name
i was sitting with my ex-husband, feeling distracted from conversation by the sounds of power tools and wood ripping free of nails. thinking about the strange irony i felt talking about divorce papers in the midst of my stalled future home.
i get the strangest looks from that bitchy crowd
i saw a lawyer the other day to go over a separation agreement i stupidly signed two years ago without getting legal advice. it's not that i am unhappy with how we divided our assets, i just felt that i needed someone to tell me what my gut already knew. knew that divorce, even in the best of circumstances, is a messy thing. no matter how we form the words into legal jargon, someone is going to get hurt. someone is going to feel taken advantage of, but, it needs to be done. we need to wrap it all up into a tidy manila envelope that we file away amongst mortgages and wills.
does this mean you're moving on
there comes a time, a morning you wake up and know it is time to move on. time to let go of all that love and anger. tuck all those memories of a life lived into your heart, somewhere safe and warm. somewhere you can let all the good parts trickle into memory and the bad things fade away.
*thank you Airborne Toxic Event for the music that has filled my heart these past few months.