Changes

I notice little things. Changes, displacements, disappearances. I can sit in a room, look around and notice the little things, the little details.

I stayed over at the ex's place last night. Under the pretext of wanting to dissect the movie we had just watched together. But as so often, we ended up in bed, and I succumbed to the the intoxicating lure of his body and warmth.

At breakfast, we sat in the living room. And I noticed. A calendar- poster I had once scribbled and drawn on with unerasable marker that had been placed behind the tv was now gone. Gone, put away like the rest of the little notes I had once written and left behind. Little marks, little reminders of me, of us, mostly gone, hidden away from sight. Even permanent markings can be removed.

Again, I don't blame him. Move on, I had said to him. And what better way to do that than hide memories of the past? Especially if he is going to have the boy he feels for in his apartment. Perhaps soon enough, the gifts, soft animals and mementos I once gave him will also vanish from the shelves and bookcases. All those trips, moments together, hapiness shared commitments made... They will slowly fade with time and fading memories and make room for new ones, and I do hope for his sake, for his wellbeing and happiness, much happier and more memorable ones. The apartment  will be emptier, emptier of a past gone by, and of the presence and role I once had in his life.

There was an awkward silence.
"I'll be leaving soon," I said, breaking the silence. I was on my way to a lecture. But that phrase had another meaning too.

I'll walk out that door, the door will shut behind mere. And I will be gone.