Silence.

A good friend whom I have known for ten years now, whose portrait is one of only a few that actually hangs in my flat, asks every time we are on the phone if I am “better.” I pause every time because I don’t know why she keeps asking me. Her dad has diabetes, yet she never asks him after he goes to bed one night and wakes up the next morning if he is “better” and “cured.” She’s flying into my city next week to walk in her graduation ceremony for her doctorate degree and I will have to insist, once and for all, that she stop asking me that insane question and really see for herself. Sorry, not sorry. Read the following from my fellow blogger.
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