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Patti Digh

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“You don't even know me anymore," I say. "Sydney, I know you better than almost anyone. Certainly better than this clown." "Hey!" Jeremy lunges for Zach again, but I push him back with my arm. "Well, I would hope someone who dated me for eight freaking years would know me a little better than someone who's dated me for a few months," I say. "But he knows me now---the Sydney who worked in TV news and lost her job and works at the farmers' market and had her heart broken by a guy who cheated on her with some bimbo named Georgina. You don't know that Sydney. You gave up on her a long time ago.”

“...and yet they are always absorbed in the things that go to make up their existence. Formerly, I lived in just the same way myself. But now I feel no contact here. They talk too much for me. They have worries, aims, desires, but I cannot comprehend. I often sit with one of them in the little BierGarten and try to explain to him that this is really the only thing, just to sit, quietly, like this. They understand, of course, they agree. They may even feel it so too. But only with words, only with words. Yes, that is it, they feel it, but only with half of themselves. The rest of their being is taken up with other things. They are so divided in themselves, that none feels it with his whole essence.”