Love Is a State of Mind: Nobody's Life is Perfect by Sarah Catherine Knights Page A

lawn, lifting his leg on various plants as he passes.
    *
    I take a cup of tea to the table, with my cereal, and sit down.  Your presence flutters and drifts around, pervading my thoughts.  You were always so bright and cheery in the mornings – not like me – you were a ‘morning’ person and whistled when you stood waiting for the toast to pop up and chatted animatedly about your forthcoming day.  You’d joke with the children and read bits out of the newspaper you thought I might find interesting.  You’d run back up the stairs to do your teeth and call out loudly ‘See you at school!’ when you left – we’d go separately, you leaving far earlier than me, most days.  When you were in the house, there was always life and laughter and now you’ve gone, the house is quiet … so quiet.
    After what you’ve done, you’d think I wouldn’t be able to look back with love, but I can.  The moment I saw you that day, so many moons ago, I knew you were the man I wanted to marry.  I was only twenty-one, just finishing my degree – a naive, young student, but I just felt I’d been waiting for you.  They talk about love at first sight and it was definitely like that for me. 
    You were sitting on that bus and you had the only spare seat, next to you.  I can still remember walking up the aisle, nearly to the back, transfixed by your face.  You were totally unaware of me coming towards you – you were staring out of the window – and as I sat down next to you on the narrow bench, you turned and smiled at me and shuffled up a bit, to give me more room.  My shoulder was rubbing up against your shoulder and I was sure there was some sort of electric current buzzing and hissing through our sleeves.  I hoped you weren’t going to get off at the next stop … and you didn’t.
    I, too, pretended to be riveted by the passing scene, just so that I could look towards you.  I studied your profile – your angular nose, your cheek bones jutting, your floppy hair with its hint of gold.  You turned and spoke to me.  I still remember those words; they weren’t earth-shattering or anything, but they were the start of our life together, the beginning of a friendship that would go on and on.  Because that’s how I saw us, as friends.  You were my best friend and my husband.  I told you everything and trusted you with my life.
    You said, I’m getting off at the next stop and on a whim, I said, So am I …even though my stop was way further.  We smiled at each other and I stood up and let you go first down the aisle.  I hadn’t thought it through, I had no idea what I was going to do when we both stepped off the bus, but I walked behind you, loving your back view, as much as your profile.  You held onto a steel pole to steady yourself as the bus lurched forward and you looked back at me.  Now I got the benefit of a face-on smile and my insides melted.  The bus braked and I swayed forward and you caught me, as I was about to fall.  We laughed and I could feel your hand burning the skin on my arm.  After much hissing of airbrakes, the bus inched forward in the heavy traffic of the busy Birmingham road and slowed, more gently this time, as it eased its way into the bus stop.  More hissing, as the doors opened and we both stepped out onto the pavement.  I couldn’t bear the thought of you just walking away and laughing, I said, Thank you for catching me, just then.   And you looked at me and said, Do you fancy a drink?  
    In that moment, I knew I had met my soul mate.  Such mundane words had been spoken, but it was as if I’d known you were there, somewhere in the world – and you’d just been trying to find me.
    *
    We have some fitted cupboards in our bedroom – his remaining things are on the left, and mine are on the right.  My heart sinks when I open the righthand doors – I have a daunting task.  If I remove all the things I now hate, there would probably be only one pair of jeans left – every