day one. march 6.

i don't have words for the way i feel.

all i can do is say what i'm doing, i guess.

first of all, i woke up to birds chirping. it seems that spring is officially here.

so that was both nice and annoying. nice, if it had been maybe 9 am when they started chirping, but i'm nearly positive that i was up between 630 and 7 with them.

then, i was laying in bed for about an hour. tossing and turning in a panic. again. i was thinking about work, but then it switched over to today, and where i am and why i am here at all.

yesterday was the strangest day. it was one of the hardest things i've had to do, but not as hard as i thought it would be, if that makes any sense at all.

i have pretty much been in a state of panic for about a week now. every morning i wake up with my heart racing. too much stress, too much to worry about. i hope i don't give myself an ulcer.

so i came home from work, and started packing and doing laundry. i was moving so quickly, and i was worried that i was forgetting everything, but went room by room and checked each maybe three times before i finally took all the boxes downstairs.

i never thought my life would fit so neatly into about 30 boxes and four milk crates.

but it really did. i left a sizeable stack of boxes at the house. for maybe two months. because i didn't want to have to move them twice and i don't need any of it now. but i still might bring them. just to be done with it.

so i had to clean out the car before i could load the car for the first trip. and ever looked outside, and i caught his eye for a second before he shut the door and went inside. i think he was surprised that i was really leaving.

and the whole time, i just had this feeling like all the neighbors were watching me, and knowing what was happening. i was loading the car in broad daylight. and it was mortifying.

'she's leaving her husband. they JUST moved in here.'

i could almost hear the words. it was embarrassing.

so i managed to load the car at a nice clip. stacked and packed to the brim.

i was dreading starting to pack it, but once i started it, i went as quickly as i could move, just trying to get it over with. up and down stairs, into the car. locking and unlocking the car, opening and closing the front door.

i just kept thinking, if i take a break, or go back inside and sit down, i'm going to stop. and that can't happen.

so when the last box was in, i stood outside the car for a second, looking at the front door of the house. and locked the door and drove to the apartment.

i parked illegally, which encouraged a speedy unload. i was really panicky at that point. i think i started to shake a few days ago and haven't stopped yet. i'm still shaking. my hands just constantly tremble.

so everything was in. my head was pounding, which i only realized this morning was from a lack of hormones, as it was my first day of the week off of birth control (the equivalent of the sugar pills in the pack). which gives me migraines. i only remembered this morning when i woke up with another killer headache.

so. my legs were all wobbly after bringing things down from the second floor of the house, and into the car, and up to the second floor of the apartment.

smoked on the way back to the house, for the second load, which had yet to be packed.

and packed so fast, it was a race, definitely. i wanted to get out. i wanted to be done. i was so exhausted from a physical day of moving stuff around between stores at work, and then with all the packing and carrying boxes up and down and loading. just BEAT.

so i packed and made my second trip's pile by the front door. ever had been hiding out upstairs so as to not have to see what was happening.

i'd told him on monday after kit signed her lease that it was a done deal, and that i'd be out on friday.

so he had plenty of warning.

and every day, with the 'so you're still leaving me on friday?'

anyways, i was packing and he started telling me little things he'd thought of, like taking the ihome for my ipod. we also have a sound dock, which was the one i wanted. so he agreed that i could take that one. and i told him i was taking the alarm clock because i'm used to it and need it for work - he does not.

and he said he was going out with friends, and told me where he was going so i wouldn't go there and bump into him. and kept asking me if i was just staying in and drinking. repeatedly. to which i said, i don't know, but probably.

everything was fine.

then he told me he needed the car, so i was trying to figure out how to get the car there and my bike to the apartment. and today was the festival, so i knew i wouldn't want to deal with it before that.

he was leaving, to avoid what i was doing. i gave him a hug, neither of us said a word.

he said he needed the car. so i told him i'd bring it back.

and then i made the mistake of telling him that i was going to the festival, and that i'd bring the car back after my second trip so i didn't have to worry about it.

and he just kept saying that he can't believe how much i've changed, and that he can't believe how much i drink now, and some random jab about my new 'party clubbing lifestyle' (i go dancing one night a month, and pointed that out).

and i countered by telling him that i have taken a crutch with beer, in the same way that he incessantly smokes weed. and that when i started to drink, i stopped ragging on him about the weed. which i did. i have not mentioned weed since before we decided to end this mess.

and of course, he had nothing to say to that. only that drinking impairs my judgment and that he's worried about me.

and i let it go.

he said that a bunch of his friends (the ones i'm not crazy about) are going to the festival also, i said, 'oh great. my favorite people...i'll see them there.'

and he just shook his head, that i'd decided to go i guess.

and as he was walking out, from the first floor, he called up to me. 'hey, tea?'

and i yelled back 'yeah?'

then, 'have fun at your bro party.'

to which i replied, 'yeah, i will. because that is why i'm going.'

and he shut the door and locked it. and that was that.


once he was gone, i found somehow a higher gear to kick myself into. and went about loading the car.

our dog just watched me, and it was killing me. she just whined while i came in and out with all the boxes.

i cried once on thursday night, the last night in the house, because she'd come in to curl up and sleep with me. and also on friday once the last box was in the foyer. when i told her goodbye i totally lost it. i told her that i was sorry and to be good and to eat her food. it broke my fucking heart.

and it was over.

i checked the house once more, and headed over with the last trip.

unloaded everything by the time kit showed up, and helped with the mattress up the stairs. she brought over kickass tools to make easier work of the ikea assembling.

i actually slept pretty well last night, surprisingly.

and woke up with the birds and the sun, and worked alot around the apartment, organizing, unpacking, writing this...

so.

i'm already doing some pretty funny things.

i keep speaking in terms of 'we'. it's pretty odd. i wonder how long it will take until i shake that habit.

also, i keep thinking/talking about ever in the past tense. the way you do when someone dies. which is really strange and uncomfortable, also. because obviously he's not dead. but the things he has done and said are now a part of my past, instead of my present, instead of my future.

the refrigerator in the new place hums as it kicks on and off. and when it's on, it makes this funny whistling noise, which sounds like distant roman candles.

which is pretty cool. because i love the fourth of july.