I promise to complain about all manner of domestic labor, if you promise to continue telling me “something good” when I ask you what you want to eat. From this day forward (though this is nothing new) we will be comfortable with the bathroom door open, I will cherish your pheromones after a long day in the kitchen, except the stench of your feet. 3.
I don’t buy into the “puzzle piece” theory of love. Nothing is missing from me, at least nothing solvable by another human’s foibles. Love is a two-layer cake, legos, it is you and I, two leaves happenstance connected by the same branch. In old poetry I called you my fading light but perhaps you have always been sending smoke signals I am only just beginning to decode. When I look into the mirror I expect two different-sized pupils, your face, to be looking back. I no longer worry that this calm is an insidious one, the eye of the storm— I fell in love with you in a frenzy that confounded and enthralled me. 61.