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I still remember when you would sleep under the tree because you liked the soft rug, and I'd find you there every night before I took you back to your pillow.

 

Now? The days of even bothering to bring out any kind of holiday decor are dead. The moment is miserable enough, a constant reminder of the irreversible loss.

 

It took quite a long time, but now I hate winter just as much as everyone else does.

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