We knew the move would change the relationship. For weeks we discussed distance as if enough planning could remove emotion. Eventually we ended it. Then I had to continue comparing rooms, uploading documents, and deciding what to pack. Grief existed beside extremely boring tasks. People expected the move to distract me. Sometimes it did. Sometimes every new experience made me want to tell the person who was no longer the first person I could tell. I am not writing this to reopen anything. I am writing it because new beginnings are often shown as clean. Mine contained a closed relationship, an open suitcase, and the knowledge that the right decision can still make the future feel worse before it feels better.