I imagine having that sixth sense, the certainty that what I'm looking for is within reach, even if it's still hidden.

That's the paradox of loss: How can something that's gone weigh us down so much?

The thinnest slice would be teeming with memories of a love so strong it turned you inside out and left you gasping, and would be an identical match to a slice stored in the heart of a soul mate.

Just so you know: if this ever happens to you, you will not be ready.

if you think of a relationship as a living entity, I guess it's one thing if the missing two percent is, like, a fingernail. But when it's the heart, that's a whole different ball of wax.

I would figure out, later, how to explain to my boss that, for me, Delia will never be a story, but a happy ending.

When was the last time someone read aloud to you? Probably when you were a child, and if you think back, you'll remember how safe you felt, tucked under the covers, or curled in someone's arms, as a story was spun around you like a web.