The Mistake Is Thinking That There Can

He Is Much Stronger Than I Think I Am. He Is Mischievous, Outgoing, Ready To Soar Through The Clouds, While I Often Feel Like The Cloud Itself.

I Still Felt Fondness For Her - Fondness, That Pleasant, Detached Mix Of Admiration And Sentiment, Appreciation And Nostalgia.

No Matter How Happy We Are, No Matter How Much We Want Our Night To Stretch Out Infinitely, Sleep Is Inevitable.

Things Are Going So Well. We’re Volleying Words Back And Forth. Everything She Says, I Have Something I Can Say Back. We’re Sparking, And Part Of Me Just Wants To Sit Back And Watch. We’re Clicking. Not Because A Part Of Me Is Fitting Into A Part Of Her. But Because Our Words Are Clicking Into Each Other To Form Sentences And Our Sentences Are Clicking Into Each Other To Form Dialogue And Our Dialogue Is Clicking Together To Form This Scene From This Ongoing Movie That’s As Comfortable As It Is Unrehearsed.

My Lines All Curve. I Tend To Connect The Wrong Dots.