Frozen Pizza

The past week had been a dull blur. Seven days ago, her life was normal; seven days ago she was happy. Then, just like that, she lost the love of her life. He was everything to her, and now she had no idea what she was going to do. She had never felt more lost as she turned the key in the lock and heard the silence-breaking click. Reluctantly, she slowly opened the front door to their home. And it was at that moment she realized that it was just her home now. She stood there at the threshold as the door creaked on its hinges, revealing the dark and lonely foyer. It would be the first night she had to spend here alone. 

Willing herself through the entryway, she slowly closed the door behind her, fumbling with numb fingers as she turned the locks. Resting her head on the closed door, she took a deep breath. She felt like she couldn’t feel her body, as if only a shell of a person remained. She knew a part of her died and was buried alongside him that day, mere hours ago. It felt like her whole heart had been ripped from her chest, leaving her gasping for breath, searching for some relief from the raw pain that she felt. 

Flipping on the hallway light, she slowly wandered down the hall to her bedroom, pausing when she reached the doorway. The bed looked so large, so lonely and empty in the dim moonlight as it glowed through the window, casting a beam of light on his perfectly made-up side. She couldn’t fathom going in there right now, laying in a vacant bed with only her grief to keep her company. And so she continued down the hall to the kitchen, where she grabbed a whole bottle of wine before dragging her feet to the living room. 

She sank onto the couch in the darkness, with no intention of filling the empty silence with TV or music. Drinking straight from the bottle, she stared off blankly into space, and she wondered if she would ever be whole again. Right now, she was fairly certain that she never would. As she came to this realization in the darkness and painful silence of the large and empty house, it became too much to bear. She clutched the wine bottle with both hands, pulled her feet up on the couch, and put her head down as she began to sob. 

Letting it all sink in for the first time that day, she wept for what she lost, and tried to accept that she was on her own now. She would never feel this way for anyone else, that much she knew for certain. Everywhere she looked, she was reminded of him, of where he had been only a week before: In his favorite recliner, at the dining room table in the kitchen, in the bed that they shared. They made so many memories here; this was their home. Not hers. She knew that it would always feel this way, and although it hurt to think about him being gone, she knew she would never want to forget him. He was the best thing that ever happened to her in her life. And so she made a silent vow that night to keep his memory alive in this place and in her heart, even if she could never truly move on. It was the only way she could see herself coping with the weight of her incredible loss.

Her head grew slightly fuzzy as the wine started to take effect. It was only when she finished the bottle that she realized she hadn’t eaten anything all day. She decided she should see what she had in the kitchen; after all, she knew he wouldn’t want her to mope around and starve herself. When she opened the cupboards and revealed nothing but empty shelves, she remembered that she hadn’t had a chance to go grocery shopping. The fridge was also bare. Some expired milk and old takeout from the week before were the only signs that it was even in use. 

Feeling a pang of sadness wash over her as she looked at the stale leftovers from one of their favorite restaurants, she decided to leave the task of disposing of it for another day and took a look in the freezer. She dug through the frozen veggies and ice, about to give up the search when she saw a box tucked away in the back. Reaching through the cold goods, she grabbed the box and slowly pulled it out of the freezer.

It was a frozen pizza. She stared down at the square box in her hands, and suddenly she was ten years younger, at his mother’s house in the summertime. She heard him calling from the kitchen, asking her if she wanted him to throw a frozen pizza in the oven. They had been sitting together on the living room couch, laughing and holding hands, snuggled up to each other while the smell of pizza and the sparks of new love filled the air. That was the day he finally mustered up the courage to kiss her. They ended up getting distracted for quite some time, long enough for the smoke detectors to sound off, letting them know that they burned their lunch. But they didn’t care; they ate it anyway, each burnt crispy bite. It was one of the best days of her life.

Warmed by the memory, she hugged the pizza box to her chest, closing her eyes as she smiled. She found comfort in the most unexpected place, tucked behind the freezer-burnt carrots. Deeming it a sign that she happened upon it - and even more so because it was the only food she could find in the house that night - she wiped her tears and turned on the oven. The memory beckoned to her, longing to be savored. And this time, she wouldn’t burn it. Filling her plate with frozen pizza, she made her way back to the living room. She sank back onto the couch, reminiscing as she ate in the dark and the silence.