Dividing the Dust

Dear Delyara, We sat on the floor today and divided the books. "Yours. Mine. Ours." We spent ten years building a life, and it took two hours to put it into cardboard boxes. The house feels huge and hollow, and the dust is settling on the spots where our photos used to hang. It’s not a tragedy, and it’s not a triumph—it’s just the quiet, heavy end of a road.