Not as intolerable as being dead, in my opinion, but I'm very fond of me. I would miss me a lot.

I'm a thirty-something gay man with a dodgy heart. I sell books for a living. Who wants to read about that?

I hadn't liked him at first. He did sort of grow on you after a while. Like the cosmopolitans. Or maybe because of the cosmopolitans.

Anyone who wasn't half-stoned on pain meds would have instantly realized what a really bad idea this plan was, but since that didn't include me, I didn't worry about it.

How did people get over this? They obviously did. Every day someone fell in love with the wrong person and had to pack up all their fragile, misguided hopes and unwanted affection, and move on to the next picnic table.

I thought again how odd it was to be on formal terms with someone you had once permitted to lick your ears.

Knowing and believing are two different things.