Okay. Well. Hereís a real. question. How long do you think it takes to get over someone dying? Someone you really loved, I mean.
Woah. Well. Iím not sure you ever do. Really. Iíve thought about it a lot. You learn to live with it, with them. Because they do stay with you, even if theyíre not living, breathing people any more. Itís not the same crushing grief you felt at first, the kind that swamps you, and makes you want to cry in the wrong places, and get irrationally angry with all the idiots who are still alive when the person you love is dead. Itís just something you learn to accommodate. Like adapting around a hole. I donít know. Itís like you become... a doughnut instead of a bun. (p. 137)
I think I miss having someone to discuss things with, I said carefully.
There was a murmur of agreement.
I mean, Iím not one of those people who has a massive circle of friends. I was with my last boyfriend for ages and we ... we didnít really go out much. And then there was... Bill. We just used to talk all the time. About music, about people, and things weíd done and wanted to do and I never worried about whether I was going to say the wrong thing or offend someone because he just Ągotď me, you know? And now Iíve moved to London and Iím sort of on my own, apart from my family and talking to them is always... tricky.
And now thereís something going on that Iíd really like to chat to him about. I talk to him in my head, but it isnít the same.
I miss having that... ability to just go, ĄHey, what do you think of this?ď And knowing that whatever he said was probably going to be the right thing. (p. 141)
I couldnít call my mother or my sister: I knew I wouldnít be able to keep up the pretence of happiness in front of them. (p. 214)
Jojo Moyes: After you