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I should at least have learned more about how it had come to be that Rema had abandoned her mother, before I asked her to marry – and hopefully not abandon – me. But I saw Rema all prismatically, all fractured and reconstituted as if seen in the valley of an unshined silver spoon and actually I’m glad love does that, I shouldn’t complain about love or love’s perspective – distorted or no, to feel superior to it would be wrong, as if there were some better way of seeing.
