learning to cope with your absence.

I should learn how to lead this new life on my own, right?

Here it goes again, you reappearing at the most unexpected, then disappearing off.

Or should I just assume that you're part of my history.

Stop torturing my mind like this.

You need to be packed away into a box,

tucked far away into the corner of the cupboard like the stuffed animals of my earlier years,

those with missing buttons, loosening seams and faded fabrics.

B.