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My Ex is with me. He gives me a box. It is full of silly stocking stuffers, the sort that I love.

"I am sorry, he says. "I didn't pay attention to what you like and what makes you happy."

He had little use for with the Christmas rituals with the kids. He would drop a Christmas ball on the floor on purpose to smash it and say that was his ritual.

The stocking stuffers are almost right, except they are not wrapped. It's part of the mystery to have them wrapped.

"Thank you," I say.

"I loved you and I do love you," he says, eyes pleading, saying don't go.

"Thank you. I know." I say. I am still going. Or letting go. He is too late.

I wake up...

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