Closure
This morning I had a conversation about today, July 16, and irony. It got me thinking, and I went and looked something up.
One year ago today, on July 16, I took a train to Maryland, told a girl that I loved her but I had to leave her behind, and drove my car back home. Today was insulin and chocolate day.
She tried to come back into my life. It was a mistake letting her back in. It was also, possibly, a mistake to re-rent this same apartment, the one I shared with her so briefly, the one that felt empty after she was gone.
Prospect Park will always remind me of her, but she can have it. The rest of the city belongs to me.
I'm really done, not just with her, but anything that reminds me of her. So it feels somehow fitting that today I'm leaving this apartment behind, too. I just finished packing and loading my car, and in a few minutes I'll be dropping off the keys and walking out door for the last time.
It's a good day for closure. But I'm not leaving the city until tomorrow. Tonight I'll be crashing at my girlfriend's place.