This Time Last Year

The first thirty minutes of my first sober breakup actually went pretty well. The person who was now my ex, C., showed remarkable kindness and care helping me pack up my things, but all the same my stuff got arranged into duffle bags in ways that made some things a little difficult for me to find later. Maybe I could have paid more attention while packing, but my recollection of what went where on that day is fairly foggy - my main memory of those moments is that I was emotionally swamped and crying, and she was not.

My intimate relationship with C. ended on June 1 of 2020, and when it did I moved back home with my family to save money and pay down student debt and to keep my parents company during the ongoing COVID pandemic. After six months and counting of living in my childhood bedroom some of those duffel bags I brought have remained fully packed and stowed, like I’m on a long flight and I’d rather not go through the hassle of stuffing my things back into bags when I finally get o…