They ate burgers and wide slices of sticky pie, skinny fries that were salty and crisp. I drank too much crap coffee thick and burnt like the kind severed at a midnight truck stop. The waiter had a flair for charming late-teen girls and this middle-aged gal, too. Innocent, naive way of reminding me to memorize the wrinkles around my eyes before they get worse. The day after I may or may not have broken up with boyfriend, my old professor .

A Soulmate without a Soul. You have no identity of your own. You love everything he likes. You cheer more loudly than he does for his teams. You laugh louder than he at the jokes he finds amusing. You adore the movies, the restaurants, and music he enjoys. It is not that that is how you feel, as you once revealed. Instead, you want to prove you are perfect for him,. So he has no reason to leave. You are artificial and manufactured.