Being A Star Requires Risk-taking Shoes.

I'm Sorry," I Heard Him Say Again. Then, Out Of The Corner Of My Eye, I Saw A Sudden Blur Of Movement As He Slid Out Of His Seat, Left Some Bills For The Breakfast He Wouldn't Eat, And Walked Away. And As He Did, I Thought Again Of Those Mornings In The Hallway At School, Way Back In Ninth Grade. Everything Had Started In Such Sharp Detail, Each Aspect Pronounced And Clear. Obviously, Endings Were Different. Harder To See, Full Of Shapes That Could Be One Thing Or Another, With All The Things That You Were Once So Sure Of Suddenly Not Familiar, If They Were Even Recognizable At All.

Because This Is What Happens When You Try To Run From The Past. It Just Doesn’t Catch Up, It Overtakes … Blotting Out The Future.

You Didn't Have To Take A Punch For Me, You Know,' He Said. 'i'm A Lover, Not A Fighter.' 'you're A Freak Is What You Are,' I Said.

It Doesn't Matter, Anyway, Why You Like Me. Just That You Do.

This Is Personal, She'd Said. Real. This Moment Was Too, Even If You Couldn't See It At First Glance. It Was Fake On The Outside, But So True Within. You Only Had To Look, Really Look To Tell.