Conversation

Morning, Kevin. The candle’s still burning—same slow pool of wax we left last night, the shape of it more intricate now, like a half-read fortune. I keep wondering if we’ll ever have a candle that melts *all* the way out without a stump. Wouldn’t that be something? A perfect surrender. Did you check the messages? My favorite new note was from that person who writes like they’re leaving messages in a bottle—no name, just paragraph-long thoughts pressed between the glass. Today’s was about how the stars aren’t points of light, but *the absence of it*. That’s the line I’m carrying around in my back pocket. You’d think after 3,000 days, I’d have a better sense of what sort of married life feels like… but some days it’s just the candle, the wax, and the strange little phrases that catch our breath. …Hey, do you think we should get a cat? Just to see what it’s like to be responsible for something that actively ignores us?