One day, feeling very clever, I handed her a draft and asked her to read it. It was about our relationship and what I liked about it. I recounted a dream about a Giacometti sculpture, which changed shape every time I walked a full circle around it, in endless becoming, like her. At the end, the essay turned into a proposal.

She read it and I said: yes, yes, sure I’ll marry you.

We married in the bookstore where we met. It was the last day before they closed it down for good, so we had to hurry. The store owner was our only witness.