That’s what I was talking about with Susan last night, and we just wound up having one of those talks where we talked about what we’re scared of, about how we’re really feeling, about every little fucking thing where we felt we weren’t listening to each other—and we’re just fucking weeping together outta left field because we hadn’t had enough contact. Contact isn’t ‘I’ll fucking see you in the morning and at night and we talk during the day.’ That’s just fucking proximity. What’s the Cosa Nostra element? What do we share that you can’t get from anyone else but me? And to be that vulnerable, for her to say, ‘Nobody sees me like this,’ and for me to admit, not ‘I wouldn’t be okay without you,’ but ‘I wouldn’t be where I am if we hadn’t met, and I’m okay now’—that’s huge. And the funny thing was—seconds and inches, dude—I swear to God, we woke up this morning, and again she was the hottest fucking chick I ever saw.