Questioning

What is this world? I don’t know it at all. How do I choose food? Remember to lock my door? I’m not made for these times. Conversation engaged my mind. Silence takes me down hard. I want to smell water in the air, see it expansive and blue. Seems like it was all peace now. Remembering. No bitterness, no fighting. I resist this new way deeply. And I know I was on a roller coaster every day back there. Had to fight to get my point across or to defend my heritage. A life which revolved around pine trees is at the very least - oxygenated. This isn’t easy for me taking buses when I can’t remember where they stop or what time. Often, I get off at the wrong place and find myself in trouble. For the dark nights in pouring rain coming up the mountain in his car. To have those chats, to eat dinner together my juice watered down with ice water. He was the one who closed up the house to some degree when we’d leave but it never needed much it was so huge. The kitchen alone was as big as my new place entirely. How many drawers....bins....cabinets there were to store things I didn’t ever even use once. So easy then. A dishwasher. Ice cubes. The car to place my purse on the seat next to me and my drink in the spot. Couldn’t see it coming just like my marriage. Impossible to imagine a life other than that. But, in both cases, it happened irregardless. I’m frightened. What am I doing here?