This is a story about love and confusion and pain and snack platters. A woman came up to me at a bookstore reading with a boy, her son, he was exactly Sam's age, the same birthday , and it turned out she'd made her own Play-Doh for her son. I think she was taken aback just a little. And it happened that this was the very day in October when daylight savings ended, so we gained an hour the next morning which made Sam and me very happy, but then we had to fly to Indianapolis which is about 25 minutes away and we lost the hour right away, like we never had it at all, and that made us both deeply confused and depressed. This is how Sam gets his snack platters.
Club sandwiches are really good for that.
So I dragged my pathetic body up into a sitting position and said yes, I had loved someone who hadn't loved me back, and how it felt like a knife in my heart and I never learned what to do about it, and I was hoping that my willingness to tell the truth and say how messy and inconvenient and confusing love is would somehow match this Shakespearean level of despair he was feeling at whatever time it was in Indianapolis. So I told him no, we wouldn't, and the next day we went to the zoo, and it was the happiest day of the year.