But I do believe we have choices—how we love and how much, what we read, where we travel. How we live after the person we love has died or left us. Whether or not we decide to take the risk and live again. But what is the point? I imagine you asking. For me it is this. On a night when I could hear the ocean coming in through the window of my room, a woman I would marry and have a child with told me she loved me. Our son was just a hint on our skins. The stars were milk on the darkness. I did not think about losing her. I thought only that she loved me, and we were happy. You say that the ocean
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