“apparel, n.: There are times I don’t mind doing the laundry, because folding your clothes reminds me of the shape of you.”

“I don’t like it when you use my shampoo, because then your hair smells like me, not you.”

“hubris, n.Every time I call you mine, I feel like I'm forcing it, as if saying it can make it so. As if I'm reminding you, and reminding the universe: mine. As if that one word from me could have that kind of power.”

“You don’t need to know how. You just make up your mind and it happens.”

“barfly n. You have the ability to talk to anyone which is an ability I do not share.”

“you ask me what I'm looking for, and I outline you.you don't recognize the shape, offer other names.you say my time will come, and I hope.”

“posterity, n.I try not to think about us growing old together, mostly because I try not to think about growing old at all. Both things - the years passing, the years together - are too enormous to contemplate. But one morning, I gave in. You were asleep, and I imagined you older and older. Your hair graying, your skin folded and creased, your breath catching. And I found myself thinking: If this continues, if this goes on, then when I die, your memories of me will be my greatest accomplishment. Your memories will be my most lasting impression.”