I know that going for the indulgent chocolate option will only leave me feeling dirty, regretful and a Bitch but I am loath to go to work and drop off his stuff. That said, I know he would rather have a root canal than come and see me again so, yet again, we are at an impasse.

The process of removing someone from your life is hard. It was hard emptying my room of him: clearing out his drawer, taking down his towel, throwing away his football magazines. I let myself smell his cologne one last time. I took down the photos of us (smiling, kissing like any happy couple) and replaced them with pictures of friends and family. His razor, his toothbrush, his last pair of boxers and his mismatched socks are all sitting in a bag waiting to be delivered to him sometime, somewhere.

Even though I've emptied my room of all the physical things that remind me of him, what was not said, what I never knew, still lingers behind.

It's so hard for me to believe in time. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was my rememory...If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place - the picture of it - stays, and not just in my rememory, but out there, in the world. The picture is still there and what's more, if you go there it will happen again; it will be there for you, waiting for you.