“Why do you love me?” he asks.
You don’t have an answer.
“You can split or you can explain.”
You sit down on the floor, bundling up your coat under you for a cushion since he doesn’t have any furniture in his apartment.
“I’ll explain,” you say. “Just give me a minute.”
You drove a thousand miles to this tiny one-room apartment where he hoped to start his life again, alone, resigned to not building a life with you. And now here you are, and you should be able to come up with a reason why.
“Maybe I need five minutes,” tell him.
He pours some bourbon into glasses and he gets comfortable. It’s going to be a long night for the both of you.
“Just because I don’t know why I’m here doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend every single second of my life with you until you die first or I die first,” you tell him.
“I want a reason,” he says.
He hands you some paper and pens and you start drawing diagrams.
Happy Don’t Sleep Day!
