I take it this belongs to you?

In a way, I never saw it coming.

I say that because I absolutely should have seen it coming. It's not as though the signs weren't there. Little things were disappearing left and right and as much as I tried to justify it and write it off, I suppose I always knew somewhere in that little brain of mine that something was off about the whole thing.

So when I came home and saw that nearly all of my earthly possessions were gone...well, I wasn't completely shocked.

Still. That doesn't mean that I didn't pass out from the shock. And when your lovely rug from Home Depot is one of the earthly possessions that has mysteriously disappeared from your apartment, it doesn't make the passing out any more pleasant. No cushioning, you understand.

I must've been out for quite a while, because when I finally arose from my slumber, if you can call it that, the morning was nearly upon me. When I was able to sit up, after a concerted effort mind you, I positioned myself up against the wall and tried to collect my thoughts. First, the feelings. Upset? Check. Confused? Well, if only by how she was able to pull the whole thing off...check. Angry? Well, that was building rather quickly. Betrayed? Oh, most assuredly check.

Then came the scream. I hadn't realized I could even scream like that. I mean, it was guttural. Dare I say epic? I think you could classify it as that, yes. It was long and ugly and painful and if the neighbors were listening, they might have seriously considered calling the police. Honestly - if you ever ranked the top screams of all time, this one would at least have to be in the conversation.

I screamed for a long time - until I really didn't feel like screaming anymore. At this point, I finally removed my self from the floor I had so unceremoniously dropped myself onto before. I went to the corner deli and bought a sandwich for myself. Turkey, lettuce & tomato, muenster cheese, mayo & mustard on a delicious hero. Crises are much better dealt with on a full stomach.

Upon returning to my abode, I positioned myself on the floor again. I was strangely comfortable there. And hey, what else was I to do? No furniture to speak of. So I sat there on the cool tile floor, slowly eating my sandwich, not really thinking about much at all. A sense of calm had come over me, the likes of which I had almost never felt. Anger...gone. Confusion...also gone. That sense of betrayal...miraculously gone as well.

And then I fell asleep. Apparently, the one feeling I truly was experiencing was exhaustion.

After a few hours, I again arose. Now this is the point in many stories just like this where the guy wakes up, having forgotten the horrible tragedy that has been inflicted on him, and proceeds to freak out. Unfortunately, nothing that exciting actually occurred when I opened my eyes to a damn near empty apartment. I had not forgotten about it. On the contrary, before I opened those eyes of mine, I was quite aware that when I did actually get them open, there would still be nothing there. And there certainly wasn't. She had really done a number on me with this one.

I sat with my head against the wall for another few minutes until I finally convinced my mind and body to get a move on again. I pushed myself up off the tile and proceeded to walk around the apartment. So little was left. Save for an old floor lamp that barely worked, a few issues of Time Out New York, a copy of Bluebeard by Kurt Vonnegut and the Simpsons Pictionary game - inexplicably, she always hated The Simpsons - there was nothing else in plain view.

As I approached the closet, I knew. I pulled out the sleeping bag and the ragged pillow that were strategically placed in there, leaving the few articles of clothing she had been nice enough to leave me with. I slowly unrolled the sleeping bag onto the cool tile, placed the pillow neatly at the head of it. Finally I arranged the few magazines and the book in a beautiful little formation next to the sleeping bag.

I paused for a second, the slowly stood up, looked around the room and turned off the light. As I left the apartment, I went to lock the door and then stopped myself. Nothing to steal really. Shutting the door quietly behind me, I took off down the stairs, out the building, and onto the street.