At home

There is a small space between my bed and desk.

Six years ago I stood in that place.
Ear to the phone.
Eyes gazing.
Hearing the words that changed everything.
Tears falling.

Since that day, I had rearranged my room. It has limited space, yet I managed to rearrange it multiple times a year, never placing the bed and desk in their places, never letting that space between them be accessible. That space where everything fell apart in a moment.

Then I bought a scale, brought it home last summer, and put my bed and my desk in those positions. I placed the scale between them. Every morning and maybe two or three times a day, I place my hands on the windowsill and marvel at the beauty of the world beyond the pane. Then I look down to the daunting numbers. It is where everything in my life is weighed and measured.