Seventeen years old when he broke my heart,
Seventeen day later when another picked up the piece,
Seventeen years together,
Seventeen thousand problem,
Seventeen days of reliving my past and finding a new future,
Seventeen minutes until I took my l...
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I'VE BEEN SO busy the last two weeks with Jungkook that I haven't had an opportunity to pack up Taehyung's things. Since Jungkook is working another forty-eight hour shift, I finally have the time to myself to get it done.
I still haven't told him about the restraining order, but Taehyung has been unusually quiet since I filed it and I don't see the sense in bothering him about it now. All it would do is piss Jungkook off and I know he would hunt Taehyung down and beat the hell out of him. As much as I think a good, old-fashioned ass kicking is exactly what Taehyung needs, I don't want Jungkook getting into any trouble. For now, I'm going to keep it to myself and hope Taehyungn isn't stupid enough to break the order.
While I busy myself pulling empty boxes from the garage and start the grueling task of packing up everything that reminds me of Taehyung, I make a quick call to my mom and give her an update. I didn't want to worry her about the restraining order, either, but she's been bugging me nonstop ever since I told her I ran into Jungkook two weeks ago. I want her to know that things are moving quickly with him so it doesn't come as a surprise when she hears it through the gossip grapevine.
She wasn't the least bit surprised when I told her I was leaving Taehyung and she didn't even bat an eye when I told her I was kind of, sort of seeing Jungkook so soon after I filed for a separation. My parents always loved Jungkook and she was thrilled to hear that we were in each other's lives again. There was no love loss between her and Taehyung. Just like Rosie, she never judged me for trying to stick it out and make things work, but she was more than a little overjoyed to hear that I had finally had enough and was moving on.
After letting her know that I'm still alive and promising to bring Jungkook over to see her soon, I end the call and get busy with my task.
My plan was to just box up all of Taehyung's clothes and other personal items that he didn't take with him when he moved out six weeks ago, but once that was finished, I moved on to other things that I no longer wanted in my house. Our wedding album was the first of those items.
I didn't even bother to flip through the pages one last time as I tossed it into the bottom of an empty box. I didn't care to see the smiling, hopeful look on my face on what I thought was the happiest day of my life. The woman in those photos was a silly, trusting fool.
On top of the album I stack every single framed photograph of the two of us together that used to hang on the walls as well as three other photo albums filled with snapshots of us throughout the years. I pack away every gift he's ever given me, every card, every note and I shove it all away until I'm standing in our bedroom surrounded by boxes. Seventeen years packed into ten boxes. Seventeen years of memories, promises and hope all hidden away in ten squares of cardboard taped tightly shut for fear they might try to sneak out and worm their way into my life again.
I carry the boxes downstairs and stack them by the front door, my body worn out and covered in sweat by the time I'm finished. I look around the house at the empty nails on the walls where pictures of us used to hang and stare at the DVD case by the TV that now only holds a small handful of my favorite movies since the majority of the ones we owned were his.
