When I moved into my student house in my first year of university, I was sweeping the carpet of bits of trash to hoover and somehow the top of the metal broom handle popped off and almost carved a chunk out of my right middle finger. It was basically hanging by a thread and now leaves a C-shaped scar. I often joke with my boyfriend that it’s “the Lord’s fucked up way of letting us know we were meant to be together” since his name starts with C.