August 9th 2018

Today the fact that we’re moving out of this house soon began to feel a bit more real. It was Alice coming over to collect more of her things, coupled with booking an end-of-tenancy cleaner that triggered it, I think.

At the end of this month, another couple will be living in the house that Alice and I shared for the last two years. That’s really odd to me. Because it’s our house. I know we’ve only been renting, but… it’s our house. Or, I guess, it was our house.

Alice is slowly moving her things back to her Mum and Dad’s, and I guess before long I should do the same (to my Mum and Dad’s, not to hers — that would be weird). And then we just need to figure out what we’re doing with the big stuff, like the beds and the wardrobes and the desk.

I think we’re both going to take a few days either side of the bank holiday weekend off work, and use that time to complete the removal. Until then, I’m staying here because it’s closer to work.

The breakup itself has not been at all acrimonious, but the frustrating bit has been that on top of the sadness, you have the admin. Fucking admin. There are so many people that you have to inform, and we’re not even including friends and family in that. It’s the gas company, and the broadband provider, and the landlord, and Wes, the landlord’s cleaning bloke.

Wes is coming in to deep-clean the entire house, and for him to do that it has to be empty. And for it to be empty, that means I have to leave, and so does everything we own.

Until tomorrow, it’s getting real.


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