"Yes," I answered, "everyone else has one."
She laughed again and disappeared into her cubicle. I dabbed my eyes and turned my attention to the picture frame. I'd had my boyfriend print out pictures of us the previous evening. I'd been sending him hourly updates on the status of my misery and he was being a good sport about it. I thought gazing upon our conjoined faces might make me cry less. Besides, another lady had inquired if a picture of my brother and I was a picture of my boyfriend and I, so I figured I'd better rectify that situation.
At any rate, I'm glad I acted like less of a fag today.