The tiger ran toward him. This same tiger ran right past him to chase a cute deer. But he’d already peed his pants, and wished he were dead.

He took the boat out on the lake. And the wind whipped up whitecaps. And he thought, No one ever dies at a convenient time. And then he did.

Your eyes are the blue of the deepest ocean, he whispers in her ear. At that depth the ocean isn’t blue, she replies. And this turns him off.

The memory problems. His selective memory problems, she called them. He didn’t remember her ever saying that. Which proved her point. Sadly.

This was not love, not in the sense he had understood it, but then again, he’d admitted that he didn’t understand love, so what did he know?

He remembers when he tried to pick up body builders and how they laughed at his flaccid body and how he reset his goals and found happiness.