I don't know what to do with "our" stuff anymore as it sits in a box in the middle of my room because there's no longer an "us" there's just a "me" and somewhere out there is a "You".
I know if I give it back you'd just throw it away, you said you would, although you rarely do what you say.
I can't keep it though because opening the box is like cutting open fresh wounds and bleeding all over again.
I know you aren't coming back but sometimes I hope you do.