It was the last thing to be done, and I just couldn’t bring myself to do more than look at it and then utterly lose my shit. It went slowly, but it wasn’t as bad as I had thought it would be- I went through old clothes, trophies from various sporting events (yeah, I spent sometime laughing about the fact that I used to do sports, too), old pictures of friends and even boyfriends, and the major breakdown I was waiting for happily stayed away. And you know what? I was doing okay with it. That’s another one of those Facts of Life that just happens to you, and most people would say I was far past time for this. As in, it was finally time to take apart the room I’d had in that house since we moved there somewhere around my thirteenth birthday. No, not a teenage pain-in-the-ass cleaning of the room, this was THE cleaning of the room. My mom made me clean my room this weekend.
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