I can absolutely understand this. I was the one who moved out, but I still “see” him — just in my brain, in my phone, on highway billboards, songs, TV characters. When I like someone, I see them in a lot of weird places.
Mercifully, I don’t think his brain operates this way, but if he’d moved out and I was alone in “our” apartment, I think I’d have cried even more, hidden even more.
I don’t like my current apartment, and I’m planning to leave it soon. During my brief attempt at therapy, even the doctor said it sounded like “an easy place to be depressed.” Fucked up, right? What, just a couch and a TV and bare, asylum-white walls didn’t make the cover of “Martha Stewart Living?” Fuck you, it’s minimalist!
It IS an easy place to be depressed, and I wallowed and cried and hated myself and made horrible life choices* and cried some more. I keep faltering/getting set back in taking the next steps in getting a new place, but hopefully soon.
* I did buy a new bed, and sheets. If you’re going to be having ill-advised sex and then spending the next day in bed crying about it, you gotta be comfy.