“And as I find my space for one here in Los Angeles, I find I don’t miss Aidan. I crave the Aidan-spaced shape my side is permanently curled into. I don’t long for my husband; I long for the way his citrusy cologne (which does not smell the same on me and I am not ready to forgive the perfumer nor my body’s chemistry for this affront) smelled when he wasn’t in the room. I miss missing him.”