.. a couple of weeks ago and I forgot to note it here. I wrote about the things I love about the newly alone.
In their places, so spare and new to them with four plate, four cups and two sets of sheets, their confessions came in abundance. Their mistakes, their weaknesses, their secrets, the things they would change about themselves. They joked about self-loathing becoming a hobby.
But they were playful, too. You cannot be that stripped down without seeing absurdity.
They talked a lot about parenting, as single fathers they were more involved now. They cooked for you, too, and learned vegetarian recipes. Occasionally, when we slipped into roles too domestic for us there was a strange nostalgic tenderness that overcame them. I was always surprised and always tentative.