I felt silly for even mentioning it, but once I did, I knew I had to explain.
“When I was a kid,” I said, “I had this puzzle with all fifty states on it — you know, the kind where you have to fit them all together. And one day I got it in my head that California and Nevada were in love. I told my mom, and she had no idea what I was talking about. I ran and got those two pieces and showed it to her — California and Nevada, completely in love. So a lot of the time when we’re like this” — my ankles against the backs of your ankles, my knees fitting into the backs of your knees, my thights on the backs of your legs, my stomach against your back, my chin folding into your neck — “I can’t help but think about California and Nevada, and how we’re a lot like them. If someone were drawing us from above we’re a lot like them. If someone were drawing us from above as a map, that’s what we’d look like; that’s how we are.”
For a moment, you were quiet. And then you nestled in and whispered,
And I knew you understood.” —contiguous, adj., page 63. The Lover’s Dictionary by David Levithan
You swore that Meryl Streep won the Best Actress Oscar for Silkwood. I said, no, it was Sophie’s Choice. The way you argued with me, you would have thought we were debating the existence of God or whether or not we should move in together. These kinds of fights can never be won——even if you’re the victor, you’ve hurt the other person, and there has to be some loss associated with that.
We looked it up, of course, and even though you conceded I was right, you still acted like it was a special occasion. I thought about leaving you then. Just for a split second, I was out the door.