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February 9, 2002
You spoke to me of Germany. I could almost see it, could hear it reflected in your voice. I didn't understand you were saying goodbye, perhaps you didn't even know it yourself.
I cannot remember your face, it has been nine years since I last saw you. I do remember the small details, the blue of your eyes, the strong line of your jaw contradicted by your dimples.
I am right back where I started, in the middle of winter, desperate to know more about you, unable to carry on a conversation as we each retreat into our uncertain confusion.