Someone who had suffered at the hands of love, and who was willing to do it again. I am proud to be a widow. I am proud to have loved someone so much. I am proud to say I am still here, that I am getting through it. I am proud of the love I shared with Aaron, and who it made me today. If this is baggage, it’s at least the fancy Louis Vuitton stuff. But I don’t think it’s baggage. I don’t think that Aaron—that loving him, losing him—is something I’m trying to jam into the overhead compartment when it clearly needs to be checked.
