[Yeah, okay, look – I tried laying on someone else’s bed and watching him play video games with the boys, and while he did appear to be doing very well at it most of the time, he also had his back turned to me for most of the days that I was there with him and I wound up feeling a bit lonely, honestly.

And there is an alternative way, which feels a lot better, for me…]

Steve and I play video games together, sitting side by side on the pile of couch cushions under several knitted blankets on the living room floor. we are on the same team, playing split screen. he is only a little better at this than I am. there are hot mugs of lemon ginger tea and just a square or three of dark chocolate each. a tall beeswax pillar candle burns nearby in the hurricane glass. the cat curles up in the safety of a trusted lap, unbothered by the thrumming of the controllers in our hands. I keep dying and waiting to come back to life while he shoots bad guys like a pro, which makes absolutely no sense, knowing who he is as a person, but it’s kind of endearing, and he’s a fairly passable shot with his sniper, so it isn’t surprising that we keep on beating levels with relative ease. there are probably some dirty dishes from the dinner that we made left to be washed in the kitchen sink. but we’ll wash the dishes together – work together, play together – then he’ll wrap his arms around me from behind and hold me for a minute – hands still wet from washing dishes. It occurs to me that this is how I want to remember him, years from now, if I am unlucky enough not to be the one who goes first.