A love letter to Bridget, my partner's wife
Every day after lunch, we dance. Sometimes she tries to eat my fingers. Other times she walks away, shouting word salad and ignoring me. My favorite thing is to make her laugh.
NOTE: I’m writing this hours after having undergone surgery to remove my back mice, meaning I’m too high on Percocet right now to be composing this. But I wanted to publish it on Valentine’s Day, which also happens to be my partner’s wife Bridget Elias’s birthday, so I’m…
