I prefer chocolate. I prefer music. I prefer facts dancing with feelings. I prefer Dandelion to Cherry Wine. I prefer trees dressed in autumn. I prefer keeping a notebook and pen on hand, just in case. I prefer the quiet of silence to the silence of absence. I prefer the color green. I prefer rebels. I prefer not to maintain that convenience is always convenient. I prefer to wake early. I prefer to sleep late when it’s wrong. I prefer talking to therapists about something else. I prefer used books. I prefer the absurdity of kids to the absurdity of adults. I prefer, where love’s concerned, nonspecific anniversaries that can be celebrated every moment. I prefer friends who promise me nothing. I prefer bittersweet compassion to everyday kindness. I prefer surprises. I prefer the earth in hand-me-downs. I prefer bordering countries to bordered ones. I prefer the hell of questions to the hell of answers. I prefer cats. I prefer dogs unleashed. I prefer the creased line of a Szymborska to the headline of a newspaper. I prefer the thrill of knowing to the thrill of believing. I prefer light eyes, since mine are dark. I prefer laughter. I prefer joy to happiness. I prefer things I’ve forgotten to say to things I’ve left unsaid. I prefer the time of seasons to the time of stars. I prefer to have faith. I prefer ideas to movements. I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility that existence has its own raison d’être.