What it is like until the other dies. And why it is more than final when gone. And why longing has new meaning, a new edge. Another part of self erased.

“I know now, after fifty years, that the finding/losing, forgetting/remembering, leaving/returning, never stops. The whole of life is about another chance, and while we are alive, till the very end, there is always another chance.”
Jeanette Winterson – Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?

Posted by Ravenous Butterflies