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I think I’ve circled the topic of you and me long enough.

For a long time I allowed an image of you to stay fixed in my memory, warmed by fondness, lightened by nostalgia. There was a time when we had a language all our own, a mythology of munchkins and gumps and grumps and gnomes and other small, bearded fantastical beings that followed us and watched over all of our love; we shared a tone of voice both babyish and otherworldly; we kindled a romance both capacious and cloistered; we fostered a need for one another that was sustaining but never satisfying. And when I was deep in the murk of it, I thought it was the greatest human connection that would ever happen to me.

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