Love (Emotion)

Modern Love in miniature, featuring reader-submitted stories of no more than 100 words.Brian ReaTaking the Bitter With the SweetOn a recent night after I moved out of our home in Moab, my ex and I went to a diner and ordered a mysterious item called the Cinnamon Roll Rage. As we dismantled layers of pastry, caramel and pecans, I thought it was a fitting end. Like the dessert, I was angry but also filled with warm, sugary feelings for this man who was doing everything he could to blunt the pain of his decision to end our four-year relationship. Alas, life is not always sweet, but when we treat each other well, it can taste far less bitter. — Amanda HeidtThe Moab Diner’s Cinnamon Roll Rage in all its glory. His Main SqueezeWeeks after her second marriage, I asked my mother how things were going. She replied, “It’s great; we’re still in the honeymoon phase.” How would she know when the honeymoon phase was over? When the toothpaste tube she had brought with her to their new shared home was empty, she joked. Six months later, she expressed surprise at how long a tube of toothpaste lasts: “I never really paid attention before.” My stepfather, an engineer, had overheard our conversation and had been secretly refilling the toothpaste tube every few days for months! — Ann Baker PepeMy mother, Lois, and my stepfather, Al, on their wedding day.Proust Was RightOdds of winning this footrace were not favorable. Flights, freeways and I.C.U. visitation rules. I hurtled through flashbacks of our visits, calls, letters, emails and texts since Donna and I met at college and then never lived in the same city. When I arrived at Donna’s bedside, the universe slowed. “I made it,” I whispered. A long look. A wan but beautiful smile. Everyone who had to be gathered had gathered, and everything to be said was said. Within hours, my friend of 56 years was gone. So yes, Monsieur Proust, space and time are indeed measured by the heart. — Gwendolyn W. WilliamsOutside my mother’s house when Donna, on the right, was visiting me in Los Angeles. Worth the SneezeJordan and I matched on Hinge — she in Ohio; I in Kentucky. An attorney with two dogs plastered on nearly every one of her profile pictures, Jordan was a woman wildly out of my league, or so I thought. Blown away by us “matching,” I was afraid to tell her about my moderate allergies to dogs. Once our Hinge messaging escalated to text, I determined it time to spill the beans. A year later, I’m a proud dog owner of two rescues for whom I take daily allergy medication. Sometimes, you get three loves for the price of one. — Kale VogtThe best photo you’re going to get of our little family. Jordan is on the right.See more Tiny Love Stories at nytimes.com/modernlove. Submit yours at nytimes.com/tinylovestories.Want more from Modern Love? Watch the TV series; sign up for the newsletter; or listen to the podcast on iTunes, Spotify or Google Play. We also have swag at the NYT Store and two books, “Modern Love: True Stories of Love, Loss, and Redemption” and “Tiny Love Stories: True Tales of Love in 100 Words or Less.” More