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Oz: "Oh, hey! Animal cracker?" Willow: "No, thank you. How's your arm?" Oz: "Suddenly painless." Willow: "You can still play the guitar okay?" Oz: "Oh, not well, but not worse." Willow: "Y'know, I never really thanked you." Oz: "Oh, yeah, please don't. I don't do thanks. I get all red. Have to bail. It's not pretty." Willow: "Well, then forget that thing. Especially with the part where I kind of owe you my life." Oz: "Oh, look! Monkey! And he has a little hat. And little pants." Willow: "Yeah, I see!" Oz: "The monkey's the only cookie animal that gets to wear clothes, you know that? You have the sweetest smile I've ever seen. So, I'm wondering, do the other cookie animals feel sorta ripped? Like, is the hippo going, 'Hey, man, where are my pants? I have my hippo dignity!' And you know the monkey's just, 'I mock you with my monkey pants!' And there's a big coup in the zoo." Willow: "The monkey is French?" Oz: "All monkeys are French. You didn't know that? ↗
He slouched back in his seat, looking tired, and leaned his face on his shoulder to look at me while he played with my hair. He started to hum a song, and then, after a few bars, he sang it. Quietly, sort of half-sung, half-spoken, incredibly gentle. I didn’t catch all the words, but it was about his summer girl. Me. Maybe his forever girl. His yellow eyes were half-lidded as he sang, and in that golden moment, hanging taut in the middle of an icecovered landscape like a single bubble of summer nectar, I could see how my life could be stretched out in front of me. ↗
I just wanted to tell you that I understand if you go. It’s okay if you have to leave us. It’s okay if you want to stop fighting. ↗
#fight #heartbreak #letting-go #life #reality
The IQ and the life expectancy of the average American recently passed each other in opposite directions. ↗
