I pack. I secretly hoard boxes in the basement. One room at a time, one day at a time, I look for things I’d need that no one will miss.

I ask myself will he need this extension cord? The picture I framed of his mom when she was three? It’s good I kept the pantry stocked with doubles of cleaning and paper products. I can take those.

Our newly adopted kittens are curled up together on a tufted chair. Will they be happier at my place where they can’t get lost like they do in this huge house?

Now here’s a pondering: should I take the dildo he just got me? He left it as a surprise gift for me when he went on his latest business trip. He meant it for us. But if I leave it, will he gift some other woman with it? If I keep it, will my mind wander to my memories of him?

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