All alone in my mind, just wandering further and further into the dark that is the absence of her.

    You know how ballerinas pick a spot to look at when they’re doing a pirouette so they don’t get dizzy? 
    Bridget was Magnolia’s spot on the wall.

    He lets out my favourite laugh that feels like a cup of tea on a rainy day, and his face looks the kind of happy I always want it to with a smile that touches his eyes.

    “How many loves do you get in a lifetime? That’s a question I’ve wondered before … If you ask The Sun, I’ve had far too many, and in some ways that’s true, I have. But actually, I’ve only had two great ones.”

    “You’re all here to bury the smartest girl, the sharpest shooter in the whole wide world. But I’m burying my guiding light.”

    What do I have to show for this life?
    Her. It’s her. Loving her. That’s all I’ve got, and he’s saying I’ve not even fucking done that well. 
    Everyone has markers for their life. Ways they remember certain things and times. Stakes in the ground. 
    She’s mine. My whole life, all dotted with and by things I remember about her. She’s how I frame the world.

    But you see, the thing about stars is that in another galaxy, that star is also a sun.
    “If it wasn’t him, it would be you,” I tell him, for better and for worse.
    He blows some more air out of his mouth and catches my eye.
    “In another life, yeah?”
    I nod and offer him a weak smile. “I’ll meet you there.”

    I’m found when I’m with Parks. Lost all the rest of the time.
    You want a metaphor for it? Alright, here goes.
    I come from a good family, everyone knows that. My parents were great, roof over my head. I never wanted for much, really, and still. She’s the only home I’ve ever been interested in having.
    Her body is the walls, heart’s the ceiling.
    I’ll live here forever.

    “I feel that it’s important you know that even if I didn’t love you in the sort of stupid, embarrassing way that I do; if I did, hypothetically, have a choice—I would choose you anyway.”

    “Wherever she is, it’s good. I know it is.”
    “How?” I ask. He shrugs like it’s easy.
    “Because she’s there.”

    “Will you walk me down the aisle?” I ask him. “At the wedding?”
    He looks down at me and smiles a bit.
    “Honour of a lifetime.”

    “A love like ours—? Are you joking?” I give her the magic smile. “We’re what the poems are about”