“Tell me again why you stopped talking to me,” I said as we faced each other, our heads on the pillows. We spoke softly, as if trying not to wake anyone else up. “And don’t speak abstractly or philosophically. Tell me, clearly, why.” “I knew that I wanted to commit to you, but I was scared to. Committing to you meant looking at the kind of life I really want. And I wasn’t ready to. I was a coward.”
