There was a time when Paul could stand the smell of his wife’s feet. When the sight of her in the morning sent him wild with confusion, and not just simply confused. There was a time when their song would come on and they’d sing in unison, facing each other, laughing between breaths. There was a time when Paul didn’t have to list the reasons to stay. There was a time when their only suitcase was filled with both their clothes. And they’d both walk out the door together, one with the suitcase, one with the passports and Lonely Planet guide for the respective city. There was a time, and that time was not today.