An image of Rob floated into my mind: dark hair, short stature. I had recently met him at a friend’s barbecue, where he talked about his affinity for aquatic animals and vintage children’s books. Best talk ever for daily life, but not for a date.

I’ve cried publicly for silly reasons — like the time I bought a Groupon to get my teeth whitened but for whatever reason only my gums got bleached. I looked freakish and felt like a fool. I cried on the corner of Gold street and then again on the C train platform.

Sometimes, I liken myself to a very early computer, slowwwly processing my feelings, while my partner stares at the spinning wheel, wondering what on earth is happening. Many are the times I’ve wished for a magic phrase to describe how I feel about that thing.

All my life, weekends would fly by. I’d leave work on Friday evening, flop down on the sofa, blink and find myself getting dressed for work on Monday morning. Maybe we made pizza, maybe we went to a park — who even knew? Was life just passing us by?!

My friends generally fall along a spectrum: some aren’t touchy at all, some will give the odd hug, and some are very physically affectionate. What about you? Other than with my husband, kids and mom, I’m not naturally that touchy with people

He’s a long ago ex-boyfriend, and he doesn’t really mean it. Over the years, this particular ex has asked me to marry him via texts, Instagram comments, even by sliding into my DMs. He is “The Proposer,” my favorite and my hero once.