Lost love is still love. It takes a different form, that's all. You can't see him smile or bring him food or tousle his hair or move him around a dance floor.
But when those senses weaken, another heightens.
Memory.
Memory becomes your partner.
You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.
Life has to end.
Love doesn't.
-- Mitch Albom "The Five People You Meet in Heaven"
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