I particularly like this: “But I wanted my love to love me that way. I thought about my mother and her cancer. The way time and illness turned her body into a jigsaw puzzle, with light pink scars tracing what used to be young and silly and taught and something completely different. And I thought about age and life — how it changes you. How the wear of skin and the layers of fat carry you — a visual reminder of who you are, and in my case, the many meals I’ve enjoyed. I used to laugh and say to myself, “well, at least I tasted every pound that went in.” And it was delicious. And I loved it. And I do still.”