Empty houses

I seem to wake up in empty houses relatively frequently these days.

Yesterday and today, I’m at a conference in Providence, RI. Since the house we own here still hasn’t sold, I stayed there last night. We knew we were buying a new bed, so we left the old one at the house for exactly this circumstance. Aside from the bed … there’s not much else left there.

It’s the same house, same rooms … and all that … but without my stuff it feels like a shell. A negative space that simply occupies volume. I would say that it feels sad … but it doesn’t. It’s more that it fails to feel full of life. It’s nothing … which … having expected “home,” makes me feel kind of sad.