Everything is gone.  Everything.
I mean the furniture is still there i guess.  But the apartment is empty.

Every memory, every bit of warmth and love,
Wiped out
Obliterated
Gone.

I thought he'd call, or text.  I thought he'd really care to see how my move was going.  He couldn't care less.  He's probably Grindr-ing his life away.  Slut.  You should see the video I have of him.  It was meant for his ex-boyfriend while we were together.  It's - sadly provocative.  I'd post it but they'd probably nix this profile.

The point is, as I'm moving those boxes into my best friends garage, each step is a slice to the gut.  I can't breathe.  I start to cry.  What was this all for?  Why did I come back?  Why do I still love someone who obviously could care less about me?  I should feel excited at all of the opportunities that are possibly out there for me.  I'm not.  I feel empty and tired.

It doesn't matter.  I hand off the keys to someone much happier without so much as a goodbye to the haunted apartment.  Let them deal with Dan's ghost.  I have to exercise my past.  That means getting rid of all of it.

I will have to go back and move out all the furniture with my friend Casey.  That will go swift and I'll probably self-medicate so I don't have to deal with my emotions.  Afterwards I'll be essentially homeless for the next 2 months.  This is when I wonder if I have made yet another mistake.  Where am I running to?  Will Denver fill the ache inside my chest?  God I hope so.  I'm on my very last legs here.