You feel like an adult. At least you’re relatively sure you can no longer call yourself young; well, maybe if you… no, no you know you are too old for that. But you are not old yet, you claim to yourself with confused conviction, so adult is the only label left to you.

Your relationship has settled into a comfortable kind of love, always smoldering beneath the surface of your life. It lies in wait for moments when it has the time and energy required to flare up for flashes of intensity. T...