My ex-wife (whom I’ve lately erroneously referred to as my wife, given recent events) is, well … there are certain people you’re made for, and then there’s everyone else.

Explaining how something this somatic could happen has proven to be problematic over the course of the 16 years since we met. Charitably, I’m considered crazy.

You don’t look for the other half of you. I mean, that’s folly. There isn’t another half … until there is, and now, holy fuck, how did I survive before this?

I don’t know that this sort of relationship is healthy, but holy shit, is it appealing. The sense of being home, that you’re not alone, that someone has been waiting for you, and what the fuck took you so long?

I’ve been at her place a couple of times over the past two months, and, well … we’re really bad at confirming the divorce from a decade ago.

Knowing we can’t work does not mean anything has happened physiologically, which is inconvenient. She kept my name and my collar.

It appears she also kept my heart.