This wasn't because he liked me, I was sure. It had more to do with him banking on what we of wedding age had all become witnesses to-how during these wedding weekends, single women, feeling a little lonely, maybe, or just feeling a little too far from being the bride, found themselves loosening their own rules, opting to be more flexible, more quickly.

We have to figure out how to let go, and forgive. This is our job.

Why does it take fear to move you? Why does it take chaos to make us understand exactly what we need to do?

Why could we say more to each other when it counted less?

We loved each other in the same difficult, unusable way where you took turns doing it, instead of ever managing to do it at the same time.

It's harder to appreciate what you don't have to look hard to find.

I couldn't help but wonder if that was what love was -- believing that someone was going to come through, in the end, and that it would still count