Both of us were quiet with the recognition that something was ending, and something was beginning.

One can't help but marvel at the variety of ways that women had devised to make us look like flaming idiots.

I had never ironed anything in my life. The proper pressing of a shirt was a mystery of the universe akin to black holes and dark matter.

Hell was waking up alone, the sheets wet with your tears and your seed, knowing the woman you had dreamed of would never come back to you.

Bitterly I wondered if Hardy was going to overshadow every relationship for the rest of my life, haunting me like a ghost. I didn't know how to let him go. I'd never even had him.

When you are in love' hypocrisy won over principle.

A lifetime with such a woman was not nearly enough.