My Return

Two weeks ago, Trout and I were enjoying a beer at a local bar, looking forward to a 4th of July full of soccer and fireworks. My mini-vacation was a much needed break from the disappointment from the previous week. Before Trout left on the morning of the 5th, he told me, reassuringly (because I was a little mopey), “don’t worry, I’ll see you in a week and a half, that’s nothing.”

A little over 24 hours later, work was turned upside down and time became irrelevant. Since then, the weeks have crawled by and have simultaneously been a blur. It took me a week before I finally started returning to my normal routine. Very slowly the haze of shock and disbelief began to lift and I was able to do simple, everyday tasks again: pick up my clothes, wash dishes, do laundry, cook dinner. Doing these things felt therapeutically normal and oddly foreign all at the same time. I felt human again, but significantly changed in a way I never imagined.

This past weekend, I went to L-town for a friend’s wedding. When I finally saw Trout, I couldn’t believe it had only been a week and a half since the fireworks and festivities. This has, quite possibly, been the longest 10 days of my life. As with regaining my daily routine, it felt therapeutic and foreign to be out amongst people who weren’t engrossed in the same situation where I had spent so much time.

Now that I’m back home, things continue to improve. The only thing I’m not doing is running. As beneficial as that would be, the recent heat wave makes it very hard to want to run. When it’s still 90 degrees at 10:00pm, and living in an apartment with no AC, running is the last thing I want to do.

Little, random things still bring back memories and every once in a while, I still can’t believe what has happened. I think I will always have moments where I can’t believe the previous week’s events are a part of my life. On the other hand, I’d be more worried if those thoughts became so routine it never bothered me.