Sky is falling

I thought it was just a box of clothes. who knew it housed more tears than anything else I've seen. didn't cry on the phone today, when taking notes on stupid changes to a presentation, didn't want to be one of those people who "lets their personal life get in the way"

but my throat is now raw and stretched out from holding back and i can't wait to lie down and cry.

winter clothes. each piece folded and stored away two houses ago, when spring was starting, we were moving, it was getting warm and he said i could have as many closets as i wanted in the new house.

the sweater he bought me on sale at the end of last season. Never worn, tags still on, he said it would be like a present to unfold it next year (yep. what a treat)

jeans i wore to the mall; "wear your saturday jeans".

boots i wore when there was salt on the ground, when he'd pull the car up to the corner so i didn't get them dirty. a sweater that smells like joe's stone crab. his soft, long-sleeves shirt that i slept in on the cold nights.

also stuck in the box: a valentines card. happy valentine's day. i love telling people that you're my wife. thank you for being mine.

a christmas ornament someone gave us for our "first married christmas" that we stuck on a shelf and said "one of these days, we'll have a tree"

photos from our first vacation. our first apartment. raking leaves. on the boat. in a hammock. at thanksgiving.

Today feels like a step back. like the first raw days. like it doesn't stop hurting. I didn't know this was coming; a whole season of memories i'd forgotten to mourn.