Some day when I come home from work she will be gone. The apartment would be empty of all of her things. Every trace of her would be a million miles away. The apartment is a reflection of my life. All the things I own can fit into a box.
The apartment is my life. I have nothing that is of worth inside. There is not enough of ‘me’ to fill an apartment.
I know this should tell me something. I know what this means.