Still trying to get it all together. Box after box after box after box. Just like clearing brush, it's an endless task.
I still have the shoe I kept from the recent 'incident.' I figured he made it obvious that didn't want it, so it's mine. L. says I should just get rid of it. C. says I should get rid of it. D. says I should burn it. It's worn, not my size, kind of smelly, and I've got only one. Yet for some reason, I am torn.
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