She wore a t-shirt with “LOVE” emblazoned across the chest.
But she never really knew what it meant.
She thought she had loved macaroni cheese. But then she ate too much of it. She thought she had loved her dog, but when it disappeared her sadness was fleeting at best. She thought she had loved her mother, but when she died she had shrugged and put the phone down.
She liked the idea of love. She liked the way the word felt in her mouth. But understanding it? Feeling it?
Wearing the word was better than knowing it.
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