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The poisonous cobras and rotting Halloween pumpkins and shouty talk-show guests of her soul.
It’s monstrous. It is too much to take. Why do we even do this—love anybody? Our dumb animal hearts.
Edi’s memory is like the backup hard drive for mine, and I have that same crashing, crushing feeling you have when the beach ball on your computer starts spinning.
If there’s a metaphor for our friendship, it might be this. The blind faith. The absolute dependability. The love like a compass, its north always true.
