Every day the coffee’s bitter no matter how much sugar goes in. The shower is clammy and even the cheeriest music is a dirge. Every coat’s itchy and too small, like they took part of your body with them. And then one night you find laughter in the offhand remark; you find yourself healing like a good little scar; and you’re ready once more to hover over the cliff like a breath of fresh air before gravity remembers you.
Daniel Handler, Why We Broke Up
