I am both compelled by the idea of companionship and repulsed by the idea of not being able to just be completely and totally inert and do whatever the hell I want while sliding pickle spears into my face like a cartoon sawmill.

Ends with Paul’s and Mo’s vows, which are great: “I will not hide anything from you except surprises. I promise to let you make fun of me. I promise to meet you at the emergency room with a book and a sweater. I promise to always see and treat you as an equal.”

"In the late 19th century you cut her name into the cornfields, hoping someone would invent the airplane."