The house where we spent the last years of our marriage, celebrated Christmases and Thanksgivings, where our youngest child was born ... it was cleared out. After three days and several trips, our beloved country farmhouse stood as empty inside as I felt.
My (soon-to-be) ex-husband's stuff was already in his new home, and mine was all packed up and headed for my new place 20 minutes away. I had already done my crying. Plenty of it. I completely lost it in the kids' bedroom when I pulled those chunky wooden letters, the ones that spelled out their names, off the walls. We had painted them Sully blue and Mike Wazowksi green several months before he walked out of our house and began sleeping at his mom's.
I imagine he did some stealth crying at some point, too. Probably out in the garage, where he kept sneaking off to take smoke breaks throughout the several days it took for us to dismantle 10 years of life together.