We can't talk about it, or I know she won't so I don't even try, but it's what goes unsaid between people tat builds up like masonry. You have to either knock the bricks out with other things, or let them keep stacking until eventually you are alone in a room.

It is still this moment and that will be true of every moment that follows, assuming this moment ever ends, which, if I am lucky, it won't.

If you can't sublimate your fear of mortality into sex with your best friend, what's it there for?