But here’s the thing: With each of them, I was a different person. I was a brother and a father and a suitor, and I think to myself that these distinctions reflect one of life’s universal truths. At any given time, I am not the whole me; I am but a partial version of myself and each version is slightly different from the others. But each of these versions of me, I now believe, has always had someone by his side. I’d survived the year because I’d been able to march two by two with those I loved the most, and though I’ve never admitted it to anyone, there are moments, even now, when I feel Marge
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