It begins with a line in the sand

the end of a relationship
the sorting of a life into piles
luxury items –
          the special occasion tableware
          abandoned hobbies
          books you can find in the public domain
          pride you’ve long since stopped using

these things you discard first.

useful items –
          the dishes you love
          important furniture
          clothes for another season
          your identity as a capable human

these things you pack	          and store.
                               (they’ll be relevant again someday)

daily necessities –
          the clothes that layer the best
          toiletry kit
          work laptop and phone
          every ounce of grit you can muster

these things you put in the car

clean everything
 
take pictures –
          proof of how you left things
lock the door
keys on the counter
drive away and don’t look back.

Never look back.

swallow the lump in your throat
your hands will stop shaking eventually
          your voice too
the pit in your stomach is there to stay

for the next 3, 6, 9 months

you work
you shower at the gym
you obsess over appearing presentable
you learn how to hide
you learn how to lie
you learn how to deflect
you learn how to exist on microwaveable meals
         and sleep on the floor of your office.

you learn how expensive it is
          to not have a kitchen
          to sleep with one eye open
          to pay for a storage unit with money you need for a deposit
 
you apply for night jobs
          fast food
          convenience stores
          coffee shops
you never get an interview.

you walk.

you walk to clear your mind
you walk to escape your office
you walk under changing autumn leaves and among new spring buds
you walk to remember the earth that supports you
you walk to see the birds rebuild the nest that the wind blew down
you walk to connect with your community –
          and to disconnect from your devices

you sign a lease
     you’re handed a key
          you twist it in the lock
               you turn the doorknob
the door swings open

the emptiness beyond simultaneously terrifies and welcomes you
          something new to lose
          something finally gained

you step inside the first truly private space you’ve belonged in, in years
you want to celebrate

instead, you crack