Apr 2020
One. Go to the U-Haul store. They haven't run out of boxes yet. Get a few medium, a few large. Don't forget the tape.
Two. When you begin to pack, start with the largest items first. The blanket you watched the stars with. The letters. The books.
Three. Tape everything down. Don't let anything out. Tape it several times actually. Let him hold the box closed while you tape.
Four. When you can't fit everything in your tiny boxes throw the rest in the car. Pile everything in the trunk. Every photograph, every memory, every good day.
Five. When everything is gone, sweep. Be rid of any crumb, flake, dust, or morsel that remains. Sanitize each surface with antibacterials of course. It must look as if you were never there. We were never there. Now it is empty.
Six. Bring everything to the storage center. Remind him he doesn't need a 10 by 10. Load it in. Lock it shut. Now there are no possessions. Now there is just you.
Seven. Obsess over anything you may have forgotten. Focus on something. Did you get everything? You don't have gloves! You need gloves. Go buy gloves.
Eight. Write him a note. Rewrite it. Write it again. Try to say everything you'll want to say for the next few years. Repeat every memory from the last six months and write them down. Repeat. Make up the ones you'll never get in your head.
Nine. Drive to the airport but don't go inside. Stand on the curb. Give him a mask. Lysol wipes. Gloves. Suitcase. ID. Note.
Ten. Say goodbye. Hold him with every last bone in your body. Cling to his shirt. Try not to cry. Smile. Hold his hand for the last time. Plant a kiss on his lips. Remember his eyes. Draw them in your head. Run your fingers through that new haircut again. Kiss his ears. Kiss his nose. Hold him again.
It is hard to let someone go when you still love them. It is hard to watch conversations dwindle. It is hard to never hear him call you his star. It is harder to watch little pieces of us say goodbye every day. Because while the whole world is six feet apart he is one thousand one hundred and eighteen point five miles from you.
So take down your photos. Put those in a box too. Put away the letters. Fold up his shirts. Don't go to the places you went to together. They're closed anyways.
11. It is hard to let someone go when you still love them. Try not to love them anymore.
Two. When you begin to pack, start with the largest items first. The blanket you watched the stars with. The letters. The books.
Three. Tape everything down. Don't let anything out. Tape it several times actually. Let him hold the box closed while you tape.
Four. When you can't fit everything in your tiny boxes throw the rest in the car. Pile everything in the trunk. Every photograph, every memory, every good day.
Five. When everything is gone, sweep. Be rid of any crumb, flake, dust, or morsel that remains. Sanitize each surface with antibacterials of course. It must look as if you were never there. We were never there. Now it is empty.
Six. Bring everything to the storage center. Remind him he doesn't need a 10 by 10. Load it in. Lock it shut. Now there are no possessions. Now there is just you.
Seven. Obsess over anything you may have forgotten. Focus on something. Did you get everything? You don't have gloves! You need gloves. Go buy gloves.
Eight. Write him a note. Rewrite it. Write it again. Try to say everything you'll want to say for the next few years. Repeat every memory from the last six months and write them down. Repeat. Make up the ones you'll never get in your head.
Nine. Drive to the airport but don't go inside. Stand on the curb. Give him a mask. Lysol wipes. Gloves. Suitcase. ID. Note.
Ten. Say goodbye. Hold him with every last bone in your body. Cling to his shirt. Try not to cry. Smile. Hold his hand for the last time. Plant a kiss on his lips. Remember his eyes. Draw them in your head. Run your fingers through that new haircut again. Kiss his ears. Kiss his nose. Hold him again.
It is hard to let someone go when you still love them. It is hard to watch conversations dwindle. It is hard to never hear him call you his star. It is harder to watch little pieces of us say goodbye every day. Because while the whole world is six feet apart he is one thousand one hundred and eighteen point five miles from you.
So take down your photos. Put those in a box too. Put away the letters. Fold up his shirts. Don't go to the places you went to together. They're closed anyways.
11. It is hard to let someone go when you still love them. Try not to love them anymore.
