The architecture of closeness that keeps two people apart
You know his coffee order. He knows which side of the bed you need to sleep on when you're anxious. You finish each other's sentences at dinner parties, hand each other things before the other person asks, move through the same flat with the practiced ease of people who have learned each other's physical rhythms completely. From the outside, this looks like intimacy. It is not intimacy. It is choreography.
