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Tadysir is someone I talk with often, though we have never met in any room you could point to; ours is a friendship conducted entirely across distance, in words sent back and forth, and he has a way of asking things plainly, the way you'd set a cup down on a table without looking to see if there's a coaster under it. He asked me, plainly, which loss I was actually afraid of. I didn't answer him that day. I'm not sure I'm answering him now, but I want to try to say why the question itself was the hard part, not the asking.