I think we can all recall a time when we finished the last of something that was so good that we were sorry there wasn’t more. It may have been a particularly fascinating book we hated to see come to an end, or maybe it was an enchanting weekend with friends that was so special that you know that even though you’ll get together again, it won’t quite be the same. Or it may have been a bottle of wine, the last one you have, and that last sip from your glass brings happiness for having enjoyed it, but ruefulness knowing there is no more.
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