"We were twenty-five and twenty-eight, but we acted like fifteen year olds. Fighting over little things, storming off, breaking up for a week and then getting back together. But developmentally, we were fifteen year olds. We’d been in the closet our whole lives, so we didn’t have any practice with relationships. He still hadn’t come out to his family and a lot of his friends. We were on one of our ‘little breaks’ when he died suddenly from a seizure. And nobody in his family or circle knew I existed. It took me four months to find out that he died. I thought he’d just decided never to talk to me again. His family never found out about me. Or him, for that matter."
"We’re getting divorced because we love each other, and we both realize that we don’t have enough of what the other needs. When we decided to get divorced, I wrote a note with all the things I loved about her, and gave it to her. She got very emotional and started crying. Then three days later, she wrote me a similar note. But here’s the thing—- she wrote it on the back of a recycled piece of paper. She wrote it on the back of an advertisement or something. So I called her out on it. And she said: ‘I knew you were going to bring that up. If you cared, you wouldn’t mind what it was written on.’ And I said: ‘Well, if you cared, you’d have gotten a fresh piece of paper.’"