Karou wished she could be the kind of girl who was complete unto herself, comfortable in solitude, serene. But she wasn’t. She was lonely, and she feared the missingness within her as if it might expand and…cancel her. She craved a presence beside her, solid. Fingertips light at the nape of her neck and a voice meeting hers in the dark. Someone who would wait with an umbrella to walk her home in the rain, and smile like sunshine when he saw her coming. Who would dance with her on her balcony, keep his promises and know her secrets, and make a tiny world wherever he was, with just her and his arms and his whisper and her trust.
We’ve been married for 16 years. We’ve both gotten a bit rounder than we used to be, but what isn’t hotter has grown warmer. I have to admit I never really understood how growing older would be when I was younger. Let me see if I can explain what I mean.
When I see my wife now, it’s like looking at a person in a time warp. She has a certain smile that takes me back to a memory of our honeymoon. There is a mischievous grin that puts me inside a moment when we were still dating. She has these little hairs that curl right below her ear that make me think of the first morning I woke up with her next to me.
There are so many layers now; such a deep, wonderful complexity about how she makes me feel when I see her. She’s like a succulent dish that has been prepared by a master chef. Or a rich, velvety wine with that perfect blend of buttery smoothness and dry finish. She is my heart, my love, truly my better half. She helps me to be the kind of man and father I’ve always wanted to be.
Am I attracted to her? Oh, god, yes. No matter how we look now, I see her across all the years as a kind of gestalt vision of who she is and what she means to me. She is the most interesting and attractive person I’ve ever had in my life. No one else even comes a close second.








