I haven't looked forward to the weekends since K & I stopped seeing each other. Two days off work was always too much time with my thoughts, and I had a hard time ending the routines he and I created. About two weeks ago, I put the things he left behind in an envelope and mailed them to him. I think I put the bulk of my anger at him in that envelope too, because that was the day I stopped feeling mad at him for not giving us a chance, when we both expressed how good we could be. I still miss him and at the most random times, but not as much, because there aren't reminders of him lying around my apartment.
Yesterday, I received a package of things I'd left at his place. Something about it shocked me. I couldn't imagine him taking the time to go to the post office and send it all back. I couldn't imagine him knowing my address, even though he spent so much time here. And then I felt this rush of sadness because it was like whatever hopes I had of being friends later just faded away. There's a finality in each of us sending back belongings.
Today I wondered if I'll ever feel like I need to call him about something. I've already started to forget his practical no-nonsense ideas about how to fix things. But I remember, very clearly, his facial expressions when I'd sit in tears, going over how much some action or some person had hurt me. He'd look perplexed, and amused, and softened. I wonder if he will ever hear me crying over something again. I also remember how when I laughed, he'd squeeze me and kiss me, as if my laughter were a gift.

This weekend is the first one I'm looking forward to. I've been making small moves to clear the air in my apartment, but I'm going all out on Saturday... meditations and prayers... and I think I'm going to have a love-in with myself on Sunday. Just work on beautifying myself and my home and gathering positive, loving energy to bring back to work with me on Monday - Lord knows me & my students need all we can get!