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“Her death had crushed my heart and all I wanted to do was burrow and hide, to be solitarily numb. Yet the more I burrowed, the more she was there — inside my brain, inside my soul.” — Frank Fitzpatrick
Her death had crushed my heart and all I wanted to do was burrow and hide, to be solitarily numb. Yet the more I burrowed, the more she was there — inside my brain, inside my soul.