Moved Out

And it's done. I've officially moved out. This all feels incredibly mixed, I'll admit, and I suppose rightfully so.

I'm excited and thrilled for my apartment. It's super urban and hipsterish, especially for Minneapolis. Sure, it's a garden level, but it has a great layout and TONS of space and again has that urbanness to it. I'm happy to make it all my own again and put everything where I want it in whatever way I want it and in whatever time frame I choose.

But you know, I just walked away from something that was my life for a year and a half. And a living situation that was mine for 6 months. This is called change, and unfortunately, I've never been able to handle it very well.

Moving day on Saturday was absolutely miserable. Well, at the start of the day anyway. It was slowly setting in on me that this was inevitably the end of everything as I knew it. Lots of crying. Tons of tears. I looked like hell. And then I sucked it up and continued loading and unloading things with the help of my parents and well, ex. I still spent the night at his place because I guess I just couldn't let go. I had gotten accustomed to whatever our situation had become and was actually enjoying it.

But then Sunday rolled around and I realized all I wanted to do was get my remaining stuff out of here. Unfortunately Saturday had only been the big stuff and furniture, so EVERYTHING ELSE was still in his apartment. I guess I suddenly felt hurried and rushed and probably a little anxious or agitated. I had asked him if he would help me put my bed together, which he seemed to agree to, but as I was getting up to take a shower, I noticed his old gaming buddy girls texting him and I guess that could only mean one thing. After the shower I suggested a Target run since I needed a few things and he informed me he was going to do board games instead. So, never mind the bed thing or help, eh? While he assured me he'd do it later, I just didn't have that time. And I was gone.

Needless to say, I got a friend to help and we took care of all the shit. We ran back into him on our last run of picking stuff up and I just didn't know what to do anymore. I don't know what to do anymore I suppose. I guess he did get home at a decent hour compared to what I'm used to him doing, but he was all depressed and lethargic and I no longer know how to deal with that. I'm not your girlfriend, so I can't make you feel better and hold you or do anything. But it's shitty as a human being to just be like "tough, fuck you, enjoy your jobless depression state that I had that you seemed to not care about!" So there was still a lot of hugging. Always hugging.

Monday and Tuesday I still ended up seeing him and am still torn in ways. I've been picking stuff up that seems to just accumulate more and more and he's come and helped me move things into my new place and we even grabbed something to eat after and it's just... I don't know. He keeps hugging me hello and goodbye. And why do I have a feeling he will always do that? I know it doesn't mean he's in love with me or wants to get back together at all or anything and I know better than to think that should make me fall for him. It doesn't. But I'm in a limbo again is all. I just have to push past this feeling part because I'm tired and worn out and still grieving. I didn't do myself the best service by staying there for so long and getting accustomed to how we were acting and being even when we knew we were broken up.

But I don't have internet. So today I went back to his place to borrow it for a bit (as I am right now). I know his Wednesday nite routine so I know he won't be here which is really great in the end. I need to stop seeing him every day, especially when I'm supposed to have my own self-sustained life away from him. And he's already done a damn good job of that from me. The apartment is completely different. He's got decorations all over the place, he's been cleaning and organizing, and well, it's just totally different from when we were together. He also threw out a note I gave him a while ago that he had held onto since February on his desk. For some reason, as long as that was there, I always felt like there was a... hope. It was for a blog that deals with adult attachment styles that I had learned about and had helped me out a lot when everything first went sour in February and I thought maybe it could give him a perspective that maybe he hadn't thought of as far as himself and how he feels or doesn't in relationships. Gone now. In the trash.

You know, this was kind of the last straw thing that I think I needed. It's very painful here now, seeing how he's moved on and bettered without me and thrown my things away, but I guess I needed to actually SEE it for myself. I needed to know there's no lingering me here. I needed to know I was never that important. Now maybe anything that was holding me back from fully moving on will be gone. Now I can be done too. Here's my motivation to making my life 100 fucking times better than his. That my apartment will look 20,000 times better than his. That I will be better because I am. I didn't quit. I wouldn't have quit ever. I reformed and came back with the intention of reforming him and making everything proper and right again. And he didn't even want to try for a second. And I guess in the end that means he could not have cared that much. So I'll keep that in mind. Keep in mind I wasn't worth it, as that'll make it easier to forget him.

And now it is getting dark and I walked over here so I better get going. Goodbye apartment. I really started liking you. You made me happy. You were a part of me. I hope you hate him secretly that he made me leave. I do.