Our friendship was a quiet, unremarkable one – a bond forged between women living alone in New York and the doormen who looked after their buildings. They were more than just custodians of the entryway; they served as gatekeepers, protector…

I posed one final question: "Have you ever loved someone?" He replied that no interviewer had ever broached the subject with him before. "Yes," he said at last, "but I didn't understand it until it was over." Then he asked me to silence the…

My private life presented a different narrative altogether. Love demands a certain transparency; one must reveal oneself to another. Yet, I possessed no fixed sense of self, adrift in a constant state of uncertainty.

We gathered ourselves, not with a desperate drive for victory, but with a quiet patience born of a desire to hold on. We didn't want it to end—not the summer, not the fleeting years of our son's childhood, not this game, not ever.

It is never fortunate to tumble from a comfortable chair onto a fragile object and begin a serious hemorrhage, but to experience such a misfortune mid-date is particularly unfortunate.

He possessed a striking handsome quality, often accentuated by gray turtleneck sweaters. A faint aroma of mint aftershave mingled with the scent of aged paper seemed permanently attached to him. Fifty-five years he was, recently divorced fo…

We weren't assured that pursuing an open adoption would expedite the process; indeed, the agency cautioned us that, as a gay male couple, we could face a protracted wait.

The heart of a long love holds a distinct quality. Approaching our seventies and eighties, we carried the weight of a lifetime's experiences – triumphs and sorrows alike – and with that came a deep understanding of ourselves and a practiced…