The clock read 03:13.

She turned off the room light and switched on her reading light instead. Lying in bed, wide awake but left with no choice, she began to look around the room.

The apartment no longer held any sad memories for her.

Her futon was the same one they slept on for 6 months when she first came here a year ago. An indescript white foldable mattress, it was a single and too small for the two of them, and they often fought for space. He didn't take it with him when he left for his fancy new apartment in September. She thought of buying a bed, but she didn't. The futon was no longer good enough for him, but it was still good enough for her.

She loved her wardrobe. It was huge, and he was kind enough to leave for her all the IKEA shelves he had bought. She remembered how he promptly cleared out a third of the space for her when she first moved in with her mountain-load of clothes. Still her giantic black suitcase sat near the door with more clothes spilling out. He occasionally nagged at her to unpack fully, but she argued that there just wasn't enough space. She kept buying new clothes because she forgot the ones she couldn't see.

And of course there was the beautiful digital clock with a mirror surface that she was staring at now. It was expensive, but he got it on sale at his favourite interior design store and it was no longer in production. She had joked with him that she would steal it if they broke up, but instead he had given it to her. "Are you sure?" she had asked. "You know I love it, but I know you need a clock and it doesn't match my new room anyways." She was touched. Back then, she was too easily moved.

The day he left, she couldn't stay at home because it would hurt too much. She offered to help, but she knew she couldn't do it. Instead, she went to a summer party with her friends, although the thought of him leaving filled her mind the entire time.

When she came back, the room looked the same but half of his belongings had been cleared out. It didn't register, and she sat on the floor, dazed. That night, sleeping alone on their mattress, she was overcome by an inexplicable sadness and fear. It came out as tiny sobs as first, but it gradually became uncontrollable wailing. He was gone.

For the next 2 weeks, he would drop by every other day to pick up more stuff. She cried herself to sleep almost every night. She was used to having him next to her in bed, they always went to sleep at the same time. She couldn't imagine how she could ever be happy again.

But then one day she woke up and decided she had come too far to allow herself to be crippled by his departure. Surely she was stronger than this. She stopped crying, stopped wallowing and simply went out to do what normal people did everyday.

And tonight, she missed him but felt nothing. It was a thing of the past, and they had both moved on.