Written by QP
The boxes fell apart years ago. I upgraded to plastic totes. They last longer. One more time. Pack, move, unpack. One more time. Then another.
Most of my things are long since gone. The furniture was sold. Things were lost moving. Some things were given away. Some, just broken.
My life has been a practice in editing. Things, feelings, relationships. I tried them on then left them on the floor, like a careless shopper in the changing room.
I cut and trim, a little here, a box there, I bend and twist to take up less space.
Somehow I never seem to get small enough to find the right fit.