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Last year, Gary took me to Per Se for Valentine’s Day. It was amazing, really amazing. It’s the only time I ever ate there, and I’ll probably never be able to afford to eat there again. After dinner, we had a car drive us out to the beach. We spent most of the weekend in bed, or sitting in front of the fire with a bottle of something fine. I wonder now, was it already too late for Gary? Was he fiddling while Rome burned, or did he really not know what deep shit he was in? He sure didn’t think he’d be dead before the year was out.

This was the first time in my life I’ve ever been alone on Valentine’s Day. I didn’t know what to do with it.