I sent James off to England today; for the next week, he'll be there on business, and I'll be here feeling lonely. After he left, I made dinner and listened to This American Life, which unfortunately this week was about death, and weepy rememberings of the feeling of being separated from loved ones. So now I'm all weepy too. I feel like one of those gothic sea-captains' widows, perched atop a cliff with a handkerchief and lantern, staring into the dark until I'm a transparent ghost too.
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