You know, sometimes you just get to a point in your life, you really do, where you look back and think, 'how did I even get here?' And it’s not always bad, no, not at all, but sometimes it just… it makes you wonder about the choices you made. The things you did, or didn’t do. Especially when you’re older, like me, you think about legacy, you know? What you’re leaving behind. And for me, that was always the research. My whole life, every single day, every single day, it was about the research. The thrill of it, the quiet hum of the lab, that feeling when you finally figure something out that no one else has. It’s a powerful thing, that. And that’s what this is about, I guess. My partner. We’ve been together a long time now, a very long time. Met her at the local diner, just after I moved out here to this little town, you know, the one where everyone knows everyone and if you don't wave back you're considered rude? Small place. Always has been. Anyway, she's a good person, a really good person. Kind, gentle, always remembers my favourite pie. And for a long time, that was enough. More than enough, really. Especially after the city, after all the stress, it was nice to just… settle. But then you start to think, you really do, you start to think about the long haul. The decades stretched out in front of you. Because the thing is, she just doesn’t… get it. She doesn’t get the research. Not really. I try to explain it to her, I really do. I’ll come home, all excited, buzzing from a breakthrough, and I’ll start talking about the data, about the possibilities, and her eyes just glaze over. You see it, you know? That polite smile that says, ‘I’m listening, but I have no idea what you’re talking about and I probably never will.’ And she’ll say things like, “Oh, that’s nice, honey,” or “Did you remember to pick up bread?” Bread. When I’ve just been wrestling with something that could change… well, everything. Or at least, a small corner of everything. It’s deflating. Every time, it’s just deflating. And you start to wonder, you really do, is this it? Is this going to be the rest of my life? Explaining the most exciting parts of my existence to someone who just… can’t connect with it? Someone who doesn’t share that spark, that intellectual hunger? I see other couples, in the magazines, on the TV, talking about big ideas, really engaging with each other, and it makes me feel… I don't know, lonely maybe. Like I'm talking to myself, even when she's sitting right there next to me. And I know it’s wrong to think this, I do, I know it’s a terrible thing to feel, but sometimes I just look at her, really look at her, and I think, “God, am I going to be bored? Am I going to be BORED for the rest of my life?” And then I feel awful, just truly AWFUL, for even having that thought. But it’s there, it’s always there, humming away under the surface, every single day. You know, you make your bed, you lie in it, that’s what my mother always said. And I made this bed. I chose this life, this quiet life, this partner. And she’s a good woman, truly she is. But you wonder, sometimes, late at night when you can’t sleep and the crickets are going outside, you wonder if you made the right choice, you really do. If there was another path, another person, who would have… understood. Who would have seen the world through the same excited, curious eyes. And you know you can’t go back, not now, not ever. It’s just… a lot to carry, isn't it? A lot to carry, every day.