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A fragment of the Garden of Remembering
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Every night, I am awoken by the isms of our relationship - the small quirks, the in-jokes, the made-up language we used, the tone of voice we would speak to each other in, the food we'd eat together, the things we'd do together, the songs we'd sing together, our touch, the warmth of her body against mine, the smell of her perfume, the way she'd say my name in a cute way when I'd done something cheeky... so many things that are littering my mind right now.
