“There’s an empty seat next to me in the ‘intensely aggravating’ section…and it’s got your name on it”

“There’s an empty shelf here with your name and dates?” “There is. And it was beginning to sound nice. But then I got called in to this meeting. An induction ceremony. Some crazy old man and his granddaughter.” He stands, guides me up beside him. “And I don’t regret it. Now, go home.”

“You can be intensely aggravating...” His expression struck me as closer to boredom than aggravation. “And somehow I suspect this isn’t the first time you’ve been told that.”“Nope,” I smiled mischievously. “Nor the last…”

“The feeling of emptiness enveloped me. It was so strange. One minute you're pregnant and the next you're not. I couldn't get my mind around it at first. The emotional pain was extremely intense.”

“There’s got to be someone for me. It’s not too much to ask. Just someone to be with. Someone to love. Someone to give everything to. Someone.”

“For your birthday, I got you a box. Hooray! It’s empty, so you can fill it with whatever you want.”