I didn't want him anywhere near my apartment. After all the insults and the screaming and then finally trying to throw the furniture, I didn't want any chance that he could come here and cause problems.
In addition, he has a lung condition, and shouldn't be lifting heavy things. He always does things he shouldn't, and he's always using his lung condition to in his manipulation ploys - it's not as bad as he pretends sometimes, it's worse than he thinks it is, but it is 100% real.
I hired the moving truck because I felt better. I don't hate him, I pity him, and this was my way of getting all his stuff out of my apartment in a timely fashion and protecting myself from the guilty feelings that may have followed.
I feel good about it. Yeah, I could have done other things with the money, I could have done other things with the time I spent boxing stuff, but my peace of mind is worth what I paid to me.
I hope he sorts himself out one of these days. I refuse to be a part of it, though, and this was my last step towards that goal.