Now there's no coming home to live. Visit, yes, and hopefully often, but live, probably not ever again.
I came home, walked into his room which is still not empty but emptier than it has been in six years, sat down on the floor, and cried.
It felt good to cry and, no doubt, I'll do it a few more times before the wedding.
And he will have to come home and pick up his guitars and keyboard and other bits and pieces. Packing up was a bigger task than he had reckoned on, I'm thinking. And there were some items better left behind until insurance is organised, especially with them going away after the wedding. So little bits of his life still remain. But they are also reminders of what once was.
And yet, I'm happy for him. I was thrilled to see him and his bride-to-be setting up what will be their home. I was pleased to see them both so happy and making plans and excited about the wedding.
DH and I are truly happy for them. And they have a lovely flat in which to begin their married life. I might even have to visit often just so that I can spend time taking in the views.
Meanwhile, our home is likely to feel very empty for quite some time.