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January 11, 2003
She could have changed the subject, but instead endured the soaking rain of his diatribe, wondering again why it had taken her so long to notice how cold she was, and why she hadn't realized how hard she worked to stoke the soulfire he could never admit kept him from freezing, or replenish the well of optimism from which he could never admit he drankā€¦ Of course, denial meant not having to throw on a log himself or pour in the occasional bucket of hope. It was such an effort to feed them both. No wonder she was so hungry.