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What It’s Like To Lose Your Father

Every part of me rejected that phrase. He said it casually in the hope that maybe I didn’t hear it, and maybe it didn’t have to be true, or perhaps so we could just glaze over it and move on to what was for dinner. “I’m sick,” he said.

You Have Me, So Don’t Let Me Go

You are mine, and I am yours, and when you said, “Because who wants to spend the rest of their lives alone?”, I saw you and me sitting on a porch swing, wrapped in each other’s arms.