For a while, then I texted him to tell him that I knew everything and I included details of a couple of nearby hotels. I said I would call and make him a reservation as a parting gift.
He went crazy. He had a crazy temper years ago when he was young and ambitious (before he got old and obnoxious) but man, it came out of retirement. He doesn't like for things to not go his way, but I'd almost forgotten because it's been so long since I've let things really not go his way. Well except for the little preview of all this a couple of weeks ago, but that was just that, a preview. He yelled. He banged on the door so loud I almost thought he'd break it down, but it turns out that it's not so easy to do that outside of movies.
Some of our neighbours must have complained or come out in the hall to talk to him or something, because the next thing I knew he was out in the street.
I went out on the balcony. Just call me Juliet.
I looked down at this red faced full of himself little tiny man down there and I just felt... nothing. Not angry, not sad, not even confused that I ever fell for him, just this black hole of 'eh'. Which is probably the saddest thing I've ever felt.
Actually, it would have been sadder if it wasn't for the fact that a bunch of drunk teenage kids walked past and started heckling him in Swedish so he broke from yelling at me to yell at them and tried to be all school teacher-y 'now kids, behave' except it could not have been more obvious that he had been thrown out of his home so he didn't exactly have status. I started to laugh.
I don't know if it was because the sight was truly funny or it was just between that or crying, but I'm laughing and the kids are heckling and this man, this stranger, is basically telling us all to smarten up and behave while his face goes red and his expensive suitcase sits in dirty snow.
Just another Thursday night in Södermalm.