I cleaned the flat like she was coming home

I didnt sleep well. I messaged here as soon as I got up, meaningless drivel about having a good day. I resolved to leave her alone, let here take a break from my constant neediness.

I cleaned everything. The bathroom, the kitchen, behind the sofa where the dust collects. I even did the floors. She always said the floors looked terrible. I don't know why I did it. I can't prove that I can fix myself anymore, it's too late. She's not coming home. She's coming on Friday and it won't be to inspect the grouting.

I think I just needed to move. To do something with my hands that wasn't picking up my phone. I checked if she'd read my message at least 15 times before lunch.

The flat looks good, relatively. It smells like cleaning products and sadness. I sat on the couch afterwards and realised I'd done it all for someone who won't know what it was like before. I hadn't let her visit in for a long time, I was ashamed of the mess I'd become and the mess I was living in. It would just be normal to her.

Three days.