Love was like rain; it turned to ice, or it disappeared. Now you saw it, now you couldn’t find it no matter how hard you might search. Love evaporated; obsession was realer; it hurt, like a pin in your bottom, a stone in your shoe. It didn’t go away in the blink of an eye. A morning phone call filled with regret. A letter that said ‘Dear you, good-bye from me.’ Obsession tasted like something familiar. Something you’d known your whole life. It settle and lurked; it stayed with you.

— Alice Hoffman, The Ice Queen

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