As I pass yet another Valentine’s day display in a kitchenware shop, it is hard to stop myself from being violently sick over the stylish fine china – whose life expectancy I would roughly estimate as 1.5 days in our household. I can practically touch the great big dream-shaped hole in my life. So much has been lost: My companion, our family, our future. Yet as I look out of the window, not all has gone: The sun setting over the snowy mountains, the smell from the bakery around the corner, and a thin but sturdy wall of protection around me – the love from my family. Knowing there are people I can call in the middle of the night, hearing them bang on about feeding me up and getting some sleep. Being loved unconditionally, when Valentine’s day feels like an insult…

Moriarty – Jimmy (To my lovely sister)


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