So you sit in a church, some people say some things, and you feel you are observing all proprieties, then you crumble, then you weep.
That's grief, then, like a good anglo-saxon male, you box it up and get on.
Then, weeks later, a passing thought brings you to your knees.
I suspect this may take a while.
I further suspect that I'm a fucking idiot for thinking it might not.
That's grief, then, like a good anglo-saxon male, you box it up and get on.
Then, weeks later, a passing thought brings you to your knees.
I suspect this may take a while.
I further suspect that I'm a fucking idiot for thinking it might not.
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