Goodbye, Old House

There was a house on the way to Fort Smith that I always liked. It was an old wooden farmhouse with a good porch and pleasant look about it. I was one of my favorite sights when we would go into the city. I always assumed that the people who loved there were elderly and sweet. I imagined they baked pies and watched TV on an old set that still had to have the channels turned by hand. This house was never an outright obsession of mine, but still, something I liked. It was a familiar friend.

Over the years, the roof has had to be replaced quite a few times. On one occasion, the damage to the house looked pretty extensive. It was always repaired, though it often took quite a while. Recently, my roommate and I noticed the roof had been ripped off again. We assumed it was just the usual replacement job.

But last week when my best friend came down to get me, we noticed that the house was being torn down. By the time my roommate came to pick me up, he told me the house had been burned away. I was shocked that it happened so quickly. All that history and establishment, destroyed in less than a day.

The loss of the house made me sad. I never lived there. I never even knew anyone who did. Even still, the house was part of my life. It made me happy. I thought it was a neat old house and it hurts that it's gone.

I have no idea why the house was torn down. It could have been really jacked up inside. It could be that there was too much damage to make it worth the fix. It could be that the ungrateful children of my imaginary nice old couple cared so little about their family home that they opted to destroy it so they could sell the land.

There should be a word for the confusion one feels when one experiences a loss due to caring for something that had no direct attachment and not understanding why the loss came about. I don't know why the house is gone. I don't know why those two drag queens I liked broke up. I feel sad about it, but I have no details. I'm not even really owed an explanation. I still want one.