This was the weekend that I had been dreading. I moved almost all my stuff out of the flat I shared with him.
I was supposed to go on Friday but he asked me not to as he was sick. I went to Dee's house instead and had a lot of wine. And then Saturday arrived and I didn't want to go. I really didn't. But I put on my big girl pants and went. I arrived at the flat to find that he was not there. In a way, I was glad. But the idea of what I had to do was incredibly overwhelming and I had a little freak-out. Luckily Dee called to find out how it was going and I asked her to please come over, which she did. I'm so grateful for her. She took charge and helped me get my shit together. It took ages to get my things and it was exhausting going up and down three flights of stairs!!! My legs are killing me today!
I had a second freak-out when we started packing up the things in the bedroom that I shared with him. There was a backpack lying on the ground, one that he had been using but that actually belongs to me. Obviously I was going to take it, as I had planned to take EVERYTHING that belongs to me. So I looked in the backpack to take out any of his belongings and guess what I found there... Condoms. New ones. Manufactured just last year and expiring in 2012. That broke me. I had thought that he might be hooking up with chicks but actually finding physical evidence was too much. Then, in the closet was a deodorant spray bottle. A woman's deodorant. A brand that I have never used in my entire life. Yes. He's had at least one skank over there since I've left. I can only call her a skank because I can not imagine any other woman hooking up with a guy and staying in a flat that was in that disgusting state. Now, I've never been the best housekeeper and I constantly beat myself up over the fact that the flat was never as clean and tidy as what I wanted. Now I see that I was fighting a losing battle. That flat stinks. He has clothes lying all over the floor, shoes and socks all over the lounge. The kitchen looks like a war zone. The pot that I used to make a pasta sauce two and a half MONTHS ago, the last meal I cooked for us, is STILL standing there, with all kinds of life forms growing in it. Glasses, dishes, cutlery piled into the sink, spilling over onto the counter.... It's disgusting. Anyway, back to the condoms. I pulled them out of the bag, since I have no need for them, and left them on his bed. Right in the middle of the bed. The message behind that move "Yes, I found these in MY bag. You can keep them. I'm sure you'll find some skanky pussy to use them on." But it broke my heart. sad to think that he doesn't realise what he's missing with me, how much I could have given him, how much I was willing to sacrifice for him.
I got home last night with a ton of clothes. My folks were great and helped me unpack the car. And then I drank wine. Losts of it. And cried. And cried. And cried.
This morning I woke up expecting some form of communication from him. Nothing. Until just now on Facebook. His status update says: Spite is unattractive. Even if you (apparently) wear it with flair.
I don't know if it was directed at me, but if it was, my response would be this: That wasn't spite. That was reality. I waited for you to have your say and you avoided the situation like you avoid everything. I tried and failed. I'm not making the same mistake again.
I still have to go back there to get my big furniture and all my kitchen stuff. I am oviously going to let him know that I'll be going there. He has to wash the dishes and get all his dvd's and stuff out of the wall unit. And then he will get his keys back and it will be over. Forever.
And when it is, I will cry again.
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