Today I got the last of my stuff out of the old house and left my keys on the table. I’ll be back on Tuesday to collect Thing Two and take him back to Bavaria to start his new grown-up life, but I won’t need to go into the house for that, so. Yet another brick in the “Oh my God this is really actually happening” wall.
It’s been awful, this forward progress, but the worst of it was in the last few days, as his stuff started gradually disappearing. I’m glad I won’t have to see any more of that. We do have to confer over a couch that I couldn’t move but would like to have, and over the cat – she can’t come live with me until I get back from Bavaria, and I don’t have keys, so he’ll have to bring her to me.
But after that, we can probably finally do the no-contact thing that is supposed to help me move on. God, I hope something does. I don’t blame myself for being sad, I know these things take time, but I’m just so fucking tired of it. Pain, whether physical or psychic, in addition to being painful, is also just exhausting.