I started the walk to the place I used to call home, each step seemed to take forever. The walk probably only took ten minutes but it seemed agonizingly slow. Its over, Its over, Its over. These were the only words in my head. Kit and Alice offered to come back with me, to make sure I was OK. But lets be honest, how could they help, how could I be OK ? I couldnt process it, she was, holding another womans hand. Its over, its over, the words replayed over and over. The sun that seemed so bright and fun loving in the park seemed brutal and unrelenting on the way on home. I remembered the moment I put the key in the door. I pulled it out of my pocket, I sighed, I placed it in the lock. I turned it, I pushed the door open. I took half a step and stopped. I dont know why that moment, maybe Id reached my limit. Maybe this is the price I will pay for my actions, whatever it was, I vowed it was the last time I would walk through that door. I was going out that door one more time, and thats what I did. I closed the door and I didnt look back. Of course a lot happened on that late Sun afternoon and night after the park. A lot happened that weekend. I laugh now, not because it is funny but because I dont know what else to do, how else to feel about the promises I made to myself and silently made to Tina. The promise to get my wife and child back, the thoughts about moving on but not until Monday, what could go wrong before then, it is almost so pathetic it is hilarious. Tina, oh God the silent promises I made to her, to be a better wife, to make her and our child my priority, to communicate, to never leave her wondering if she is loved. There are more but what does it matter now ?

There was a moment, just before Tina told me it was over that I thought she wavered, just for a second, I thought I saw her eyes betray her. I know now I was mistaken. Mistaken hardly describes a moment, a split second in time when you think there is hope and before you can take another breath, its crushed, there is no hope. I dont know how to recover from that, from all that has happened but I have made a start. That day when I returned home, and I eventually walked through the door, I walked slowly around the house, looking and lightly touching all the pictures and sculptures that were meaningful to Tina and myself. I sat in front of them and silently prayed for the answers to come to me, for the phone to ring and Tina just to tell me there was some, no matter how small any hope. I laid for hours in our bed and cried and called her name. I took nothing from the house, a few casual clothes. I took all the pictures down. I did nothing else. I didnt wash the dishes or pack the dishwasher. I didnt go out to the pool. I didnt turn the fridge off. I didnt turn the answering machine off. I left my car in the drive. I left my ring on the table.