Last Christmas Craig bought himself this gorgeous leather La-Z-Boy recliner. He loved it and wouldn't let anyone else sit in it (if he caught me sneaking in there, he'd give me a hard time for wrecking his butt groove).
He only had it a couple months before he died so it's pretty much brand new, mint condition. I've been planning to sell it for some time since I never use it and it just takes up space in my already cramped living room.
A friend of mine came over to help me move it into a spare room to store it for now along with some other boxes.
Fine, no big deal.
I don't know what the hell happened. As soon as we re-adjusted the couches in the living room it was like the chair had never been there. I don't know why, but I burst into tears. All out sobbing, sniffling, you name it.
Just when I thought I was doing ok, not crying every day, making it on my own... something stupid like a chair derails me.