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“I’d come see you. We could do Virginian things, like . . .” “You don’t know anything about Virginia, do you?” “It’s for lovers?”
The thing about losing someone is that it doesn’t happen just once. It happens every time you do something great you wish they could see, every time you’re stuck and you need advice. Every time you fail. It erodes your sense of normal, and what grows back is decidedly not normal, and yet you still have to figure out how to trudge forward.