Yesterday, I said my goodbyes to my home for the last two and a half years - 180 Meserole Street. It was a much more painful goodbye than I had anticipated. There were photographs of the two of us and cute souvenirs from our travels attached to the fridge. There were cute notes from him left for me in happier days that I had stored in the bottom of my underwear drawer. There was a piggy bank he gave me on this past Christmas with a picture of a beach in Costa Rica in the background, an enticement for the two of us to save money to go there together. The trip never happened. I left the piggy bank behind, did not need that memento staring at me everyday.