It's the little things. A box was thrown in the middle of my living room to be disposed of soon, it was the perfect size for her to play in. A fly got in through the door, she would've loved to have chased it down. The air cooled enough for me to need to use a blanket, it felt lighter than it did when she was around to lie there on it. I have to keep in mind, she was 19, it was her time.
I miss her.
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