PWS came by to pick up a few things.
He made a mess of the orderly storage locker while looking through duffles/boxes. Tape on boxes ripped off.
[Skipping awkward situation of very little productive communication. Skipping the stress and nauseousness felt. Skipping describing full details of the angry, hostile atmosphere. Skipping notes about my son, seeing his stuff packed up and confronted with the reality that I disposed on some items, ignites his fury.]
Once he had sorted out what he was going to take with him on this trip, he asked if he could put the items upstairs in the apartment while he went to the gym, and I said “No.” And he’s like, “Seriously,” and I said, “No.”
I was about to get on the elevator with him, and he said, “No,” holding hand in stop signal.
I don’t know when he’ll be back.
I don’t know where he is staying.