My ex and I were texting earlier today about a good time for me to come pick up mail and decided on 6:30.I'm late, which is normal for me. I just parked. I'm sitting in my car with my seat belt buckled and the car running. Changing my address is probably one of the easiest things to do. I could probably go online right now and fill out a form on usps.com and it would be done in like 5 minutes. But instead I text him once a week and we arrange a time for me to come over and walk up the porch steps and open the door to the house that used to be mine. I give him a hug and we talk and he hands me a pile of mail with a rubber band around it.It's somehow comforting, and disturbing at the same time. These little things that keep us tied together that aren't as obvious as packing my stuff in boxes, taking the record player that we bought together, changing our relationship status on Facebook. Things like the utilities at his place are still in my name.I get an email from the gas company every time he pays a bill. He uses my Amazon Prime, so I know about the documentary he watched two nights ago, and the usb he bought last week. It arrived on Saturday and Amazon wants to know how I like it, if I could fill out a quick customer survey. I think in a month or two all these little ties will be gone. He will pick up the phone and call the Gas Company and I'll go to the post office, but for now I'm going to get out my car because, you know, I have mail to get.