Thank you to everyone for their good wishes last week. I am feeling a bit better now that it's all over, and I have my friends to thank. I don't know, yet, what the future holds for us because there are many conversations to be had, but I am not entirely without hope, particularly as certain reactions were surprising, to say the least
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You don't.
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Narcissa, you know, was happy once, until she remembered her duty. And now she's marrying an arse who dresses like a sofa.
Given that example, An is best left alone by all the Blacks.
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No, that isn't right.
What I miss is what I thought they were, what they pretended to be, but in the end they were not. They may have loved me, but not enough. Not enough. And so, as they have decided to mourn me, I must mourn them as well. I find that ceremonial surroundings are necessary to end one part of my life and begin a new one. I am no longer a "true Black" and there is little I can do about this. Sitting about moping and wishing it could be otherwise will help no one, particularly my child. Forward thinking is the thing.
I am doing this to move forward. In no way do I mean to make light of what has happened. Rather, I hope to commemorate it, face it straight on, and then move forward.
Do you not think this appropriate?
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Might I still think of you as a sister, now and again?
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I suppose what I mean to say is, it cannot be what it was. But perhaps it can be something new.
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