The part of this that I’m struck by now, decades later, is that I felt so flush with Bill’s love, so ensconced in our relationship, so confident of its durability, that the note didn’t seem significant. Earlier that very semester, I had been uncertain I’d ever meet a man I could truly love and be loved by, and already Bill was such a fixture of my days that being showered with his affection was sweet but unremarkable. Did I imagine that my life would be full of such emotional extravagance? I must have, because to save the note did not occur to me.
