After Surviving Death, I No Longer Believe in Love1
At a class reunion, my girlfriend Queena Morris and her childhood friend Fitch Howard played Truth or Dare. They drew a task card of performing a sweet interaction.
They behaved intimately.
Everyone watched my expression carefully and was afraid that I would ruin the party.
I just smiled faintly, "That is sweet. Why don't you kiss each other?"
***
It was my ninety-eighth love trip with Queena.
She left me behind again and made an appointment to go hiking with Fitch, leaving me alone in the hotel.
Five years before, when I graduated from college, I proposed to her, but she said she hadn't enjoyed the single life enough and would only get engaged to me after we had traveled to ninety-nine places.
In five years, we took ninety-eight trips, and Fitch accompanied us on ninety of them.
The eight times he didn't go were because he really couldn't spare the time.
And during the eight times I traveled alone with her, she either complained about the hotel or the route, and we always ended up not being happy.
When I woke up, they were both gone.