The End is The Beginning is The End

Looking around at the room I now find myself in, it’s hard to remember this was the room I spent most of my childhood.

What was once very much a “boys room”, with its bright blue-and-turquoise walls, big study desk and masses of sci-fi paraphernalia – including a very large collection of Citadel Miniatures – has given way to neutral walls, floor, and furnishings; cream and subtle floral prints are the order of the day. The study desk has given way to a smaller desk filled by a sewing machine and yarn. Small shelves of knick-knacks have replaced the legions of Space Marines. Everything has its place, and everything is in its place.

It’s into the middle of this small sanctuary that much of my personal belongings have been somewhat unceremoniously dumped. A suitcase, two laptop bags, and a plastic carrier bag contain the essentials and my more easily grabbed-and-packed possessions which came to hand during my displacement.

The possessions themselves are a somewhat chaotic mish-mash. There’s a random selection of clothes (for example, eight or so casual shirts but only one for work) and shoes, a work laptop, three sets of headphones, a tangle of cables and chargers, an iPad, a HP Touchpad, and my mobile phone. Half the clothes need washed, but they were bundled up with the clean laundry during the hasty packing, so the whole lot will probably need to be washed again. It’s an odd mix, but bar some more clothes and two shelves of books it represents the sum total of what I have left.

My current situation – as depressing I find it – is entirely my own fault though, so please do not feel sorry for me. It has come about because my mind was too feeble to grasp the situation I was in and because I was not brave enough to tackle it head on. I was not honest with myself, let alone those who mattered, which is why I am lying in this strange, single bed tapping this out on the iPad; thoughts swirling around about what I could have done differently. My inability to do the “right thing” is why I have been dumped into a room which was once mine but now feels quite alien.

So all the hurt and all feelings of being lost are quite rightfully mine own burden.

What comes next still has to be decided, and what is in the past cannot be changed. Tonight though? Despite the formalities and process still to come… tonight is the night my marriage ended.

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