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It's been two months and the box with my name on it still remains untouched.

I guess I'm terrified as to what is in the box,

Or maybe after I open it, there's nothing left of you. Nothing new because you're gone.

And I can't fucking take that.

But it's been two months, and I need to open it.

There was a reason I have this, and the reason isn't for it to sit on the floor collecting dust.

Taking in a shaky breath, I kneel down beside it and open it.

This is for you Jane.

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