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#Wisdom

"My grief was insidious. He looked like me, and spoke in the tone of my voice. He knew my inflections, and influenced my facial expressions. He was more comfortable in my skin than I had ever dared to be. My grief appeared meek, but he stood firmly atop the crown of my heart. Always. But, I didn’t try to escape him. I believed that I needed to hold onto my grief, because I loved the memory of what gave him to me. I truly loved the person who left the charred, blistering imprint on my chest."