The second option is worse. We work. We work well. He likes the way I can’t seem to chew with my mouth closed even though it’s gross, and I brush his hair every night before bed. We fall madly, deeply in love. We get married. Maybe we even have kids. Then one day—maybe not for a while, but certainly someday—I lose him. And it’s as if the world splits open beneath me. I fall into an existence where I’m forced to live without the person who made it worth living. All my favourite things are ruined, because they were all his favourites too. All the places I liked to go for dinner that I won’t
...more
