He threw them out. Everything.
My pillow.
My CD's.
My toothbrush.
The sting of his actions hit when I saw NSYNC in the trash. My rage was a sort of domestic rage.
My pride shattered, my memories wrecked, he woulod not have the last laugh.
Months later, after my dreaded departure, I stood outside his door.
His dignity dangled on my size 8 finger. It took the form of my misgivings.