“I was holding out hope that someday, somehow, Theo would come back. It isn’t as if I’ve loved the same cold memory all this time. Rilke wrote, Even your not being there is warm with you. I’m in love with Theo’s residual warmth. the indentation she left for me to grow around. All those living petals, never falling... I leave space for Theo to be something that’s still happening to me.”
