"The problem is all inside your head" she said to me
"The answer is easy if you take it logically
I'd like to help you in your struggle to be free
There must be fifty ways to leave your lover"
Trouble is, when you own the house, they have to leave. Please do, drop off the key, Lee, and set me free. Tomorrow I get to have my house back. I have been overlooking the room full of his things and getting on with my days, not really thinking about it but today I realized it was all kind of coming to a head finally and tomorrow I get to have closure and can actually move forward with my life.
At an earlier point in my life I probably would have looked at the situation, stony-faced and jaw clenched insisting that I'm fine and that none of this really bothers me. And while I really am fine and it doesn't bother me as a thing that's happening, I have to acknowledge that standing by as a person I once loved moves his belongings from my home is going to result in my being affected. Nothing that might make me reconsider, of course, but it's like picking a scab that had the last 20 days to start healing.
Fortunately, this is it. No "I have nowhere to put the piano" or "there's this one thing I missed" because it's all packed and organized and ready to go. No foot in the door, loose ends or hangers on. I don't have to feel this anxiety over dealing with this situation at all after tomorrow. The day before Easter. Fitting, I think. Resurrecting something for the sake of bettering things in the long run. That's kind of a stretch, but I'm not religious anyway.
I have the broom ready for the dust bunnies, and the sage ready for the juju tumbleweeds.