Today, you came home to a package.
It was a box that I  had taped up tight.
Inside you found your worn out high school hoodie.
When you unfolded it, nearly every picture of us fell out like confetti.
And at the bottom of the box, in a thick hemp cloth, you found a framed picture of you
looking miserably in the mirror, back at me.
I was behind you, smiling and deliriously happy.
The picture was in pristine condition.
I wrapped it the way my ancestors would cover a mirror
after a death in the house.
They did this to keep  the spirits from passing to another realm.
I did it knowing we had ended that night and  that you would forever be looking back for me.
You will be miserable and I will be deliriously happy.