I find myself surrounded by constant reminders of a very close friend who moved away earlier this year. I'm not sure if it is because I am missing her more these days or if I just purposely set myself up like this when she was living here. Everywhere I look, something reminds me of her.
The rug in my room - it used to belong to her
The picture of the tiger she gave me - feels like her watchful eyes are always checking on me
My roses - I remember all the times I would go pick her up and have one waiting in the cup holder for her so she would have a reason to smile
My truck - she is one of two other people who know the keyless entry code. If she ever needed my vehicle, she didn't even have to ask. She could just get in and go.
The moon - The full moon was this past Sunday. I remember spending nights with her just looking at it
Burger King - I remember picking up an order with extra ketchup many times for her
Waffle House - we sat and laughed with friends here often
Blankets - I have several blankets she gave to me upon her move. I wrap myself in them as I think about her.
The list goes on. Our history shapes who we are. Luckily I have so much to remind me of my wonderful recent past.
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