“I don’t understand,” she said. “How can you think about leaving, after all this time?”
I looked around at the apartment that had never felt like home, at the things I had never wanted in the place of things I’d never thought I could have… I looked at the all things I had never truly owned and that no longer owned me. I looked back on the years that had not so much passed as piled up on top of each other, an unruly, untidy mess of time that I had told myself I would definitely get around to cleaning up, you know… one of these days.
“Because I was never really here,” I said.
If it was hard for her to hear it, it was just as hard to say it.