Two days ago was the last time I’d enjoyed the illusion of life being normal. In forty-eight hours, I’d packed up my life into the back of my car and given away what wouldn't fit. None of it mattered to me; not what was in the car, or what had been given away. With the exception of my online clothing business, it didn't matter whether it was thrown to the curb or stuffed in a box. I’d felt that way for some time though I’d done a good job of lying to myself. Now, there was no longer a reason to pretend. I sighed and forced myself to my feet. I had a three hour drive ahead of me and just wanted to get it over with. I walked out of the place that had been my home for the last six years, knowing I would miss my cozy apartment. After all, it was the place where I had adopted Bosco and found out who I really was; the place that had fostered and nurtured my independence. Bosco was still running around the yard looking for his ball, not understanding the big changes underway. I retrieved it from the floorboard of my car, where I’d tossed it to make sure it wasn't forgotten and gave it a squeeze.
