This is where the evening splits in half, Henry, love or death. Grab an end, pull hard, and make a wish.

Do we simply stare at what is horrible and forgive it?

If you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand.

Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake and dress them in warm clothes again.

The way you slam your body into mine reminds me I’m alive, but monsters are always hungry, darling.

You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together to make a creature that will do what I say or love me back.

This is where the evening splits in half, Henry, love or death. Grab an end, pull hard, and make a wish.