Maybe I’d known that some end was inevitable, but when a person loves another, they don’t leave, and when a person is sick, the other doesn’t leave, and when Ming stopped being sick and wanted to change in ways that were painful and alien, I stayed because she needed it. And I wasn’t ready to be alone, and so the breakup was a betrayal, and Thin Frames was a spit in the face of the years I’d spent holding her shaking hand. It was a looting of privacy, pulling me inside out and shaking me for coins.
