Joe stood in the driveway of his new home and waved as the moving van backed out. The loud beep- beep of the truck’s back-up siren pounded into Joe’s brain that it was the end of his marriage. He waved again but could not see if she was waving back. The headlights were in his eyes and it was almost dark. He stood there as the cold January rain thudded loudly and then rolled down the brim of his dark-brown Aussie hat.  The yellow moving van faded into the late afternoon pre-dusk darkness. Joe had never felt more alone.

 

Connie, his ex-wife, and Joe’s brother Paul, had just helped him move out of their house. Actually, it was their old house now. It was Connie’s birthday, but she had agreed to help him because he helped her move a week earlier. A strange melancholy feeling was present while they helped each other move. It was an unspoken acknowledgement of the end of their relationship. Occasionally, as they shuffled boxes and loaded appliances they would look at each other and wonder what went wrong. Joe would wonder about that the rest of his life. He was 36-years old and had been with Connie since he was 18, half of his entire life! 

As Joe walked out of the rain and into his new home he mumbled, “What in the hell am I going to do now?”