If I can adapt myself to manage without you, surely I can adapt myself to live with any change. Older. Harder. Less like you remember. And there is always the fact that, through the bemused reactions, I’m never now not with you. And as I get older, literally softer, you will also. Grow loose and lined and live alongside.
Happy new year my Morg. You would be with me tonight, so you are with me tonight.