I haven’t said anything yet. I’m not sure what I’m waiting for exactly. Some days I think I’m waiting to feel certain. Other days I think certainty isn’t actually coming and I’m going to have to decide without it.

The Tuesday routine is still happening. I watched him load the tote bag last week. He kissed me on the forehead before he left and I let him and I stood in the kitchen afterward and I didn’t move for a while.

I don’t know what I’m going to do. I really don’t. And I’m not sure writing this out has made that any clearer, but I needed to put it somewhere other than just inside my own head. Some days I think I know exactly who I am and what I’m capable of. Then I think about that yellow house four miles away and I’m not sure I know anything.