Alexander
The suitcase lies open on the bed, jet black, austere, functional. Like everything else in my life. I fold a shirt with almost automatic precision and place it inside. Then another. Then a pair of pants. Everything tidy. Everything under control…
At least… on the surface.
Because inside, nothing is tidy, but that doesn't matter. It never has mattered; control isn't about what you feel, it's about what you show.
I close the dresser drawer with a firm movement and stand for a few seconds, staring at the empty space. My apartment feels… different, cold, colder than usual… As if it no longer belongs to me, as if I'm already leaving it behind even before I've left.
I let out a slow sigh.
"Good…" I murmur to myself, it's the right thing to do, to leave, to let everything co
