The Boy I Loved Didn't Know I

Deep Breaths. I Am Taking Deep Breaths. Composure. Which, For Me, Means Composing... Maybe This Is My Way Of Creating The Illusion Of Control Over Something I Have No Control Over. Like, If It's Just A Story I'm Telling Or A Song I'm Singing, Then I'll Be Okay Because I'm The Guy Who's Providing The Words.

Someday Your Prince Will Come," I Assure Him. "and The First Thing I'm Going To Say To Him Is, 'what Took You So Long?

There Has To Be A Moment At The Beginning Where You Wonder Whether You’re In Love With The Person Or In Love With The Feeling Of Love Itself. If The Moment Doesn’t Pass, That’s It—you’re Done. And If The Moment Does Pass, It Never Goes That Far. It Stands In The Distance, Ready For Whenever You Want It Back. Sometimes It’s Even There When You Thought You Were Searching For Something Else, Like An Escape Route, Or Your Lovers’ Face.

You Never Get Involved In The People's Lives? The Ones You're Inhabiting?" I Shake My Head. "you Try To Leave The Lives The Way You Found Them." "yeah." "but What About Justin? What Made That So Different?" "you," I Say.

You Don't Know, But I'm Noticing.