So, it’s 9 p.m. on a Tuesday night., you’re minding your own business scrolling through memes or half-watching some nonsense on Netflix when she hits you with the question. That question. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?” Let that sink in for a second, because it’s not just a question; it’s a test. A labyrinth of emotional landmines, a riddle, an enigma squished inside a pile of soil where apparently she…