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Danny’s voice was like butter on bread. It made every word out of his mouth delicious.
“There’s this funny thing about the past,” she says. “It’s all about perspective.”
“We don’t really learn about grief until we’re in it,” Danny says, staring vacantly at some point past my shoulder. “We can read a million pamphlets and watch a hundred talk shows on the topic, but nothing prepares you for what it feels like. It’s gaping and persistent and cold.
We cry together. Because having your heart broken hurts like hell but breaking the heart of the person you love most in the world is a special kind of agony.
