This is a book that I wrote when I was heartbroken. I’d imagine that’s how many books get made. We lose something we love and it seems natural to try to reconstruct it mulling over memories, sorting through missteps, bleeding our expired hopes and habits onto paper, hoping some part of what we’ve loved will still be salvageable. If only I can make this pain pretty, we tell ourselves, then it mattered. Then there’s some reason to carry it forward. But real pain isn’t pretty at all. And through the process of writing this book, I learned just that. This book is a compilation of articles that I wrote throughout one of the most tumultuous years of my life.