“She and I didn’t end in a horrible derailing crushing wreck that left both of us bloody and grabbing for our throats to check if we were still breathing—it was more like a slow dance. We were holding each other closely, swaying to Cigarettes After Sex and I decided to gently let go of her hand and she didn’t make the slightest attempt to grab it back. And, in a cynical yet poetic way, this is what loving in a broken generation haunted by dreams feels like—a slow dance that gets slower and slower until the music stops and someone lets go.“

Cole Schafer (January Black), One Minute, Please? (Page 134)