He left today.
He walked up and down my stairs a thousand times, hauling his belongings down in cardboard boxes. One of my stairs lets out a bad creak when you step on it and that groaning whine sound was surely my heart under his boot.
Creeakkkk. Creakkkk. Over and over. There goes another box of him out the door and no longer part of my life. I kept wondering to myself why.. why wasn't more of his shit on the first floor?
And why now does it hurt so bad? He cheated on me in one of those celestial planetary alignment moments when when I needed him most. The exact moment when I was getting my ass kicked and I opened up with tears, weakness.. and doubts. Exactly when I trusted him the most. Not to mention, he has been leaving me more and more for months. All good reasons why I should be doing back-flips, one after another to see those boxes walking out to his truck like lemmings.
It would be nice to get my emotions in line with reality and current events. I suppose there was a certain comfort involved with having all the closets jammed up with his football cards, his shoe collection, his stupid car models I never had the heart to tell him are uglier than hell.
I hope tomorrow, I feel free.