I’ve always known love was a selfish and canibalistic emotion, one that only exist if it can feed off more of itself. But I thought once that feeling was exhausted, something in the sentiment of a friendship might remain, and I might hear from you...
"Her name is Cecilia," She said. "We call her Cee-Cee." "Turning two this May...like you. Yeah, the 9th. That's crazy, isn't it?" "She's nasty. Sometimes I worry I had another you."
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