Old Habits Die Hard

It's hard to get Rajarshi Bhattacharya out of my system. It's hard to forgot and "move on" from a habit of 14 years. I've ranted and raved, picked up a job after a five year sabbatical, sent my toddler to school and relocated back to my childhood home. 

Yet, he haunts me. He is the first thought in my head along with the sun's rays and the last thought at night just before sleep takes over. It's difficult to forget, it's difficult to move on. 

There are days of acceptance, there are days of anger and there are days of frustration,  wondering why this horrible thing had to  happen to my child and me. What wrong have we done to deserve this fate?

Memories of us going on long drives and eating out extensively come flooding in my mind, like it happened yesterday. Who knows if there is a soul? Who knows if that soul has any attachment to us anymore?

The days of quiet acceptance are the best. I am 35 years old. That's not even half a life lived. Yet, I've seen and experienced my world crumbling. So, the best thing to do is breathe and be greatful for the people still alive and trying to make a difference.

My late husband will always be a part of my life. But, it's time for the fairy tale to end. There is no life after death. There are no ghosts. There are no souls. Everything was just a fragment of my imagination.. perhaps.

It's time to "move on", whatever that means. Here's to another chapter, one where I'm not Mrs Rajarshi Bhattacharya anymore.