Bang Bang. My baby shot me down.

I took a certain amount of pleasure out of packing this time around. Having had the unfortunate, albeit short, experience of alternating homes every weekend - some ten years ago - packing is not an activity I look upon with any sort of excitement. However, today, I enjoyed it. I chose a specific playlist and went about tidying the apartment meticulously. My goal was to leave no trace of myself. Of course, I love tidying, on my own time and terms. I left two piles of clothes for my remaining days with little notes on top; ‘Thursday – Last night out’ and ‘Friday – Flight home’. All beauty and hygiene products organised by order of use in the bathroom and on my dresser. All items not belonging to me that found there away up here over the past few months neatly stacked in a paper bag to return to their rightful owners. Not entirely sure what will happen to my pop-art Audrey Hepburn painting, would very much like it to find its way home shortly after I do.
I like chapter endings. In life, I mean. So many “lasts”, so many “firsts”. I like that. Goodbyes are never really permanent in this day and age anyway.