Everything I Know About Love

by Dolly Alderton

I think we should make vows.” “To who?” “To ourselves,” I said. “And to each other.” “OK,” she said, putting her sunglasses on top of her head. “You go first.” “I vow to not judge however you handle this when we get home,” I said. “If you want to have a really heavy amphetamine and casual sex phase, that’s fine. If you lock yourself in your house for a year, that’s fine too. You’ve got my support whatever you do, because I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose the people you’ve lost.” “Thank you,” she said, taking a sip of her prosecco and pausing to think. “I vow to always let you grow. I’ll never tell you that I know who you really are just because we’ve known each other since we were kids. I know you’re going through a period of big change and I’ll only ever encourage that.” “That’s a good one,” I said, clinking her glass. “OK, I vow to always tell you when you have something in your teeth.” “Oh, always.” “Particularly as we get older and our gums start receding. That’s when the leafy greens can really get lodged.” “Don’t make me more depressed than I am,” she said.