Today I have been on autopilot for a majority of the day. I woke up, went to starbucks, had a moment of silence for Scott, then got to work. I have packed so much stuff today. You don't realize how much you really have to do. I got a lot done, on top of that, I cleaned. Cleaned everything I could. And I find myself wondering am I trying to clean him out of this apartment. It hurts so bad. Alive, then dead.
I went through the final bag of clothes that I had found stored in a computer box. I want to hang onto everything, I feel like a bad person for donating his stuff. HIS stuff. Even though he never wore this shit, except when he had to dress "business casual" at Bally...there's no sentimental value to it, other than it was HIS. I miss him so much. There is so much guilt associated with getting rid of anything. He saved everything, whereas I liked to throw out/donate regularly.
It's so fucking hard. SOOO fucking hard. I wish I could explain it. I want him back so I can ask him if it's okay that I am getting rid of some of this stuff that he never wore. Is he mad at me? I feel so mad at him sometimes cause he left me. Left me without telling me he loved me. Left me with no goodbye. Left me wondering so much about life. I have so many questions for him that will never get answered and I hate that. I miss you baby.
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