“Sorry, I was just arranging some flowers.”

She laughs, “You were what?”

“Arranging flowers. I get fresh ones every week. The last ones just died.”

“You’re a trip. What did you get?”

“Some roses. There’s a deli on 6th Avenue that always has the most beautiful colors. I just pick the ones that speak to me. This week it was ballet pink. They’re perfect. You’d think that this weekly death would help me cope with my attachment issues. My parents told me I never cried when my pets died when I was little. It’s a wonder now that my heart shatters over even the shortest tryst.”

“That’s a very morbid story.”

“I think I just had more faith before the world convinced me not to.”