“Yes, we are [friends] and I do like to pass the day with you in serious and inconsequential chatter. I wouldn't mind washing up beside you, dusting beside you, reading the back half of the paper while you read the front. We are friends and I would miss you, do miss you and think of you very often. I don't want to lose this happy space where I have found someone who is smart and easy and doesn't bother to check their diary when we arrange to meet.”

“I don't think we have a future. I know we do. I want to marry you and have kids and be a stay-at-home writer dad while you take Boston journalism by storm. I want to wake up beside you every day for the rest of my life.”

“I miss you every time that we say goodbye, even though I know I will see you the next day. I miss you when you are across the room, and I can see you. I miss you when you sit beside me and I cannot touch you.”

“Sorry. I know we shouldn't be doing this. I know we were supposed to be friends for a while first, but God, I've missed you so much. I think about you all the time.”

“And I still love you in my own fucked-up way. I miss you, I really do. Can we still be friends?”

“We all miss people. I miss my parents, may they rest in peace. I miss my marriage when it was good. You don't have to stop missing. You just have to accept that missing doesn't mean you turn away your happiness.”