Let us set the scene: The stubborn insomniac leans against my headboard, rubbing his sore neck, trying to keep himself awake. I lounge across the bed, vulpine, disobeying the rules, dying to paint his knuckles and his tired eyes.
“I am so tired,” he admits.
“I adore you,” I reply.
Corinne Engber currently resides in Ohio, where she writes lots of essays and likes someone she shouldn’t.