So now it's been long enough that I can deal with all of your stuff, and all of my stuff that you've given me over the past three years. But it's not so long that I've forgotten what it was all about, what we were doing when I heard the songs you put on the mix tapes, the sun in your hair when you picked the cherry blossoms for me and covered my face with them while I slept. I still have one, pressed between the pages of the little cork book you gave me. But now I have to find places for these things. I have four boxes in my room: Things to Keep Visible; Things to Keep on Hand; Things to Keep Hidden; and Things Not to Keep. Here's the breakdown:

Things to Keep Visible:

Things to Keep on Hand:

Things to Keep Hidden:

Things Not to Keep:

Somehow, I feel better. Somehow, nothing seems to have changed. I'm glad we haven't spoken. It's easier this way.