I don’t think my spark will ever come back, to be perfectly honest. Grief settles. It’s not something you overcome. It’s something that you live with. You adapt to it. Nothing about you is who you were. Nothing about how or what I used to think is important. The truth is that I don’t remember who I was. The other day somebody said, “I know you better than anyone,” and I said, “No, you don’t. You don’t have a fucking clue who I am. Because I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore.”
