Packing.

I'll miss waking up to this. Her. Having her asleep in the crook of my knees. A little reminder I'm not alone if I don't want to be.

A gift, I haven't decided, whose intention it was to not let me feel left out...or to finally give some recognition of all that I do.

Dreading the idea of, once again, putting away all those little things I've collected over the years into boxes. Boxes that will, most likely, remain packed and sealed with rotting duct tape. Eyesores of my inability to stay.

But beginning from a place that is familiar to me: from the inside out.