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beginnings and endings were not as important as the moments that could have happened or the outcomes that might have been.
“Because if you don’t have something to figure out, then you have no reason to keep going?�
Every time you love, pieces of you break off and get replaced by something you steal from someone else. It seems like it’s the right shape but it’s slightly different every time, so that eventually, very very quietly and over days and days and days, you are transformed into something unrecognizable, and it happens so slowly you don’t even notice, like shedding scales and making new ones.
