I know he’s going to wake up tomorrow feeling horrible, and I feel bad, so I want to take care of him like he’s done for me. Quietly, I race around my apartment, gathering items for him. I grab Tylenol, a bottle of water, a packet of electrolytes, and a granola bar. I splay them out on the nightstand and leave a handwritten note that reads: Morning, Robbie. Hope you feel better. Xo, your dame in shining armor, accompanied by amnesia.
