“This infidelity thing is too easy. It is the good and the bad.”

“Grief is like cancer. It ebbs and flows within you. Then, it changes and transforms you. Forever. Grief. Cancer. Both force you to face your worst fear—death. Grief and cancer. Both undermine your optimism of life. You finally see the cup is really just half full, even if you believed otherwise your whole life. Both teach you to believe that bad things can happen to people, whether they’re good or bad or rich or poor or young or old, alike. Grief and cancer corner the market for all. Grief and cancer take all comers. Both rule. Do they always win? I begin to wonder.”

“The pain is too much, the loss too great. There is no more before, and the after is too devastating. There isn’t enough of me left to go on. Grief has stolen too much of me now.”

“I’ve told too many lies. I hold too many secrets. Who can I really trust? Who can trust me when I don’t even trust myself?”

“He’s gone, incinerated for all time. I am the ashes left behind, soaked with too many tears, and burdened with an infinite future I cannot see. Our life together is finished.”

“The psyche questionnaire asks me to list the things I dislike. Why don’t they just use the word, hate? Why is everyone so afraid to admit they hate something? I write Advil, and then add Athens, Afghanistan and the U.S. Army. “In conclusion, I hate a lot of things that begin with the letter A,” I write in the space provided.”

“Finally, I say, “long dark hair, blue-violet eyes, slender, tall, she had a Liz Taylor in Black Beauty thing going on.” Reluctance sets in. Do I really want to put this together for him? “Like you,” he says. Pandora’s Box opens. Chocolate anyone? An abundance of heartbreak. Rare happiness. Plenty of self-destruction. Take your pick. Julia’s got everything in here.”