Your (Ex’s) House

Ever since you’ve returned, you noticed a layer of grime and dirt on everything. Was it always there? Was it new? The dust on the living room cabinet where pictures of you no longer reside. The dirt that’s snuggled between the tiles in the kitchen. The off color that the once white carpets in the bedrooms have become.

My (daughter’s) room was laid out like a psych ward’s padded room. She had asked us to repaint it to a pure white color. There was a single bed that folded into a couch; white cushions, sheets, pillows, comforter, everything like it was her imperative to avoid being seen in a snow storm. Other than that, there was a night stand with an alarm clock, a closet, and… that was it. No posters, no curtains, nothing.

John’s room is the same muted pink from when we first painted his room before he was born and I had a dream that he’d be a girl. The color has since faded and looks more like an off gray than anything else. It was also hard to notice the color of the walls with all the other colors in the room. Bright-haired anime girls posed in posters in ways that{if Strictness >= 50} I never approved of and would try to cover with religious art.{else} I thought was normal for a boy his age.{endif} He collected all sorts of figurines for these girls, he tried to explain their backstories to me one time when I tried to clean his room, but I was too busy at the time to have such a lengthy conversation. His largest figure, bedsheets, pillows, computer background, and curtains were of his favorite character: Ichigi-San. I only remember because he explained how despite being built like a hentai sex doll, the character was actually a boy. How odd…

Joe’s Room was cramped. Clothes made mountains to traverse through to his bed, his bench press, or his closet. Posters of models and various sports stars painted the rooms walls, often stacking on top of one another. The room smelled like what I imagine a boy’s locker room would smell like: gym socks and a mask of strong deodorant.{if Strictness > 70} The attempt to keep this room in order was a futile one. I think he was doing it on purpose.{endif} His awards from his time in track, football, baseball, and lacrosse laid amidst the mountains like land mines ready to be stepped on so that a spray-painted plastic baseball bat would go up your heel. I just wish I could reach him to help him realize there’s a good way to organize his life.

My old master bedroom… now someone else sleeps where I used to. [insert variations depending on rival]

The guest room smelt strongly of floral perfume. The type that would leave you gagging after leaving the room. This was Lily’s domain, my ex-mother-in-law’s lair. She keeps all her stuff in suitcases and moving boxes, she used to emphasize how her presence in the household was temporary and how she just wanted to watch over her newly free boy. But I think all pretense faded when she was still around on Joe’s 16th birthday. An utter parasite. I’m surprised her room isn’t built more like a xenomorph nest. She hated me and was ambivalent to my first two kids, but it was only Joe who she seemed to dote on and I’m sure it’s because he resembled Joseph the most{if Cuckoldress} though that was only by coincidence since his father was certainly not Joseph{endif}.