Those who sow in tears will reap with shouts of joy. He who goes out weeping, bearing a trail of seed, will surely return with shouts of joy, carrying sheaves of grain.
Your hand can still reach for two mugs on a slow morning, long after there is only one person to make tea for. Habits hold the shape of the people we shared them with. The evening walk, the phone call on the drive home and the show you watched together on the sofa each held a place that someone else filled.
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