March 25, 2012
He understood life better than anybody I knew. At a young age, he had the taste of an aged wine on his breath as his wise words pushed from the depth of his old soul through his lips. He told me something that rang through my head for ages, something that echoed especially loud when I thought I knew. Sitting on the couch with our eyes slowly drooping, he told me that I had to know who I was before I would know who I loved. His words shot like an arrow into my soul, a shot that sent ripples through my mind. Who I am I? Who am I? Who…

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