I've talked about this before, days where the calendar expanded and never ended, days where it was always "that thing that will happen but thank god there is so much time". I’ve come to the time where there isn’t that much time left. But I’ve realised that this whole time, I’ve been packing. Packing up for July. Gathering some material things, only necessities, packing up friendships, only necessary ones, and trying to tame emotions in a bag way too small. It really isn’t as sad as it sounds, I’m fine, I really am, but I’m just left in this time where I am packing away everything, not really sure what to dispose and what to keep. And that scares me. That uncertainty of leaving things behind or maybe taking them and not knowing what to do with them. This of course is all a metaphor for something bigger. Something that has kept me all day "packing".