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- Ешь, молись, люби
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I
said
,
"
My
heart
was
broken
so
badly
last
time
that
it
still
hurts
.
Isn
’
t
that
crazy
?
To
still
have
a
broken
heart
almost
two
years
after
a
love
story
ends
?
"
"
Darling
,
I
’
m
southern
Brazilian
.
I
can
keep
a
broken
heart
going
for
ten
years
over
a
woman
I
never
even
kissed
.
"
We
talk
about
our
marriages
,
our
divorces
.
Not
in
a
petty
way
,
but
just
to
commiserate
.
We
compare
notes
about
the
bottomless
depths
of
post
-
divorce
depression
.
We
drink
wine
and
eat
well
together
and
we
tell
each
other
the
nicest
stories
we
can
remember
about
former
spouses
,
just
to
take
the
sting
out
of
all
that
conversation
about
loss
.
He
says
,
"
Do
you
want
to
do
something
with
me
this
weekend
?
"
and
I
find
myself
saying
yes
,
that
would
be
nice
.
Because
it
would
be
nice
.
Twice
now
,
dropping
me
off
in
front
of
my
house
and
saying
goodnight
,
Felipe
has
reached
across
the
car
to
give
me
a
goodnight
kiss
,
and
twice
now
I
’
ve
done
the
same
thing
-
allowing
myself
to
be
pulled
into
him
,
but
then
ducking
my
head
at
the
last
moment
and
tucking
my
cheek
up
against
his
chest
.
There
,
I
let
him
hold
me
for
a
while
.
Longer
than
is
necessarily
merely
friendly
I
can
feel
him
press
his
face
into
my
hair
,
as
my
face
presses
somewhere
against
his
sternum
.
I
can
smell
his
soft
linen
shirt
.
I
really
like
the
way
he
smells
.
He
has
muscular
arms
,
a
nice
wide
chest
.
He
was
once
a
champion
gymnast
back
in
Brazil
.
Of
course
that
was
in
1969
,
which
was
the
year
I
was
born
,
but
still
.
His
body
feels
strong
.
My
ducking
my
head
like
this
whenever
he
reaches
for
me
is
a
kind
of
hiding
-
I
’
m
avoiding
a
simple
goodnight
kiss
.
But
it
’
s
also
a
kind
of
not
-
hiding
,
too
.
By
letting
him
hold
me
at
all
during
those
long
quiet
moments
at
the
end
of
the
evening
,
I
’
m
letting
myself
be
held
.
Which
hasn
’
t
happened
for
a
long
time
.
I
asked
Ketut
,
my
old
medicine
man
,
"
What
do
you
know
about
romance
?
"
He
said
,
"
What
is
this
,
romance
?
"
