The future of our relationship hinged on advice from a fifteen-year old girl, a probably untrue story from a one-eyed Chihuahua trainer, and me unromantically – yet skillfully – kissing you on top of silverware and china?

Sex had been amazing, but it wasn't a magical cure for everything. Damn. Somewhere along the way, I'd picked up common sense.

Melbourne, I always knew you'd need to learn about this kind of thing. I 'd just kind of hoped you'd learn it on a real guy.

Not much could have distracted me from coffee, but hearing Julius Caesar quoted at Spencer’s certainly did.

Look who's calling the cauldron black." "Kettle. It’s a kettle. Get your metaphors right." "That wasn’t a metaphor. It was a, you know..." He stared off into space, blinking. "One of those things that’s symbolic of another thing. But isn’t the same thing. Just like it." "You mean a metaphor?" "No! It’s like a story...like...a proverb! That’s it." "I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a proverb. Maybe it was an analogy." "I don’t think so.

Which is weird. But not the craziest thing I can think of Rose doing.ʺ I appreciated the support.

Also, I didn’t trust any guy who used more styling products than I did.