I just... I dunno. It’s dumb. Everyone says it’s normal but it feels like the air got sucked out of everything. My kids… they’re gone. Not gone gone, obvi, they’re just grown. Sara’s got her apartment downtown, always busy with her friends, going to shows. Mark’s away at college, like, across the country. And my husband… he just works. Comes home, eats, watches TV. Sometimes he asks if I had a good day but it’s more like a habit, not really a question. And I just… I say “fine” and it feels like a lie I tell myself too. It used to be constant, you know? Like, a hum. The house was never quiet. Little footsteps, giggling, crying, someone always needing a snack or a ride or for me to find their missing sock or help with homework. Dinners were loud. Mornings were loud. I was always doing something for someone. Wiping a counter, doing laundry, packing lunches. And now it’s just… quiet. The quiet is so LOUD sometimes. It’s like a big empty space where all the noise used to be. The kitchen just sits there, clean. No crumbs, no sticky fingerprints. It feels wrong. And the worst part is… I feel like I’m supposed to be happy. Everyone says “oh, you have so much free time now!” or “it’s YOUR time!” And I smile and nod but inside it’s just this… cold. Like a wind blowing right through me. What is my time for? I don’t even know what I like anymore. I used to like reading. I used to paint a little. But it feels like trying to put on clothes that don't fit anymore. They used to be mine but now they just hang weird. Like I grew out of myself somehow. Or maybe shrank. Sometimes I just sit and stare out the window at the city. All those people down there, walking so fast, going places. Doing important things. And I’m just… here. My hands, they feel weird. Like they should be doing something. Holding something, fixing something. But there’s nothing. And I get this awful feeling in my stomach, like a stone. Like I’m just taking up space. That’s probably BAD to say. But it’s how it feels. A big, useless… blob. I saw my reflection in the window the other night. Just sitting there in the dark. And I barely recognized myself. Like, who is that person? What are they even doing? For so long I knew. I was Mom. I was Wife. I was the one who made everything work. And now… I don’t know. It’s like the ending credits rolled and I’m still sitting in the theater all alone. And everyone else already left.