Feb 07
Hope_for_the_future's picture

A new bed made to forget you

I've come here to buy a new bed. I tell myself as I climb out of my car and go into Ikea. I need a new bed.

This store has too many floors. I don't know where to go. I won't ask for help; I don't want to be annoying. My silent phone holds no answers on who to ask for help.  Aimlessly walking through the layers of a store with too many things that I don't need, but I arrive at the end with a cart filled with things I can't use or understand but feel right.

 "Did you find everything alright, Miss?"

A faceless woman asks me, scanning a box of lemon salt and pepper shakers. That will stay boxed in a bag in my filled house that I don't want to be at. So, I've filled it with things I don't need or use. ‘Cause maybe that will make the house a home again. A place for me with my things. 

 "No. I came here for a new bed. I don't need a new bed, we only bought the one we have two years ago. But, now it's me and the bed is too cold when I want to sleep."

 The women with no face stammers and hitches, "let me get someone to help you find a bed."

She's gone and I'm looking at the empty cart and I want to fill it again with something. I don’t like it empty. "The beds are this way."

I follow and leave everything, hoping I find something that will put a patch on the empty part of my house, my heart.  "What bed are you looking for?"  asked another faceless employee.

 "Small, new something with no memories of his body and mine, together."

 "We have twin beds. "

 I sigh "That works."

 I bought the bed, the lemon shakers. I left them in the car. I ask my husband, who is laying on the ground, in the ground next to me, "Will this be enough to finally let you go?"