This is really happening

It's February 3, 2014. Not quite a month since I moved out.

Moved out. Moved. Moved sounds better. Less traumatic.

"It's really your fault I didn't go to basketball tonight. 

If you hadn't moved I would have gone like before."

I never thought this would be me. Sure, I've thought about it. For a long time, years. It was just a tiny thought percolating in the back of my brain, as I peeked into the windows of the duplexes down the block and wondered what it was like.


I wouldn't.
I can't.
I won't.

I did.
I am.

This divorce is really happening.