Packing my life into boxes

It may be day three days or so now that I have been living alone in the apartment that I once shared with my ex and best friend of two years, Daniel . Who's counting anyway? Me of course.

Counting the days is not something I am doing because I am melancholy about the situation as it stands but more counting the days so that the chaos and waiting to start the next chapter of my life will be over soon. In a few days I will have my own little place to call home, and nobody to come home to.

On Sunday I worked during the day and I knew that Dan would be cleaning up and taking what he needed out of the apartment. I was quite aware that I would come home and all would be different. No more ABC radio blaring when I returned from work and the sound of speedway car videos playing on you tube will not be heard and no more Mittens tripping me over when she wants to eat in the mornings. No more long chats, no more feeling comfortable and certainly no more 'us', as a couple anyway.

Coming home after a killer of a day and not having your best friend of 2 years standing there to great you and coming home to find no furniture really sends you back down to earth and tells you that it is really happening. I wake up off the floor ( I am currently sleeping on a body pillow as I have no bed) and it becomes real again. It is just little me with my big dreams trying to make my way in a city which I am not sure I am fond of.

Even after we broke up, and continued living together, it felt like we were still a couple, just without the stuff couples do, the sexual and physical stuff. Now that Dan is finally removed from my everyday life it is starting to sink in, we are no longer together, just friends. Officially.

Now as I pack my life into boxes ready for my next move I reflect on what was and I smile, it was good but I look forward to moving on and starting again, for the 5th time in my life. But who is counting, not me. I don't have time to count, I am too busy packing my life into boxes!