Not Everything's Perfect, Especially In The Beginning.

We Sat There, Not Talking, For A Few Minutes. He Ate The Moon Pie; Only Skinny People Can Scarf Down Junk Food Like That. Finally, I Said, "norman?" "yeah?" "are You Ever Going To Show Me The Painting?" "man," He Said. "you Are, Like, So Impatient." "i Am Not," I Said. "i've Been Waiting Forever." "okay, Okay." He Stood Up And Went Over To The Corner, Picking Up The Painting And Bringing It Over To Rest Against The Bright Pink Belly Of One Of The Mannequins. Then, He Handed Me A Bandana. "tie That On.

Never Would Forever, With All Its Meanings, Be So Clear And Distinct As In The True, Guaranteed End Of The World.

He Was The Closest Thing I'd Ever Had To Something, Or Someone, That Mattered. But In The End, Close Didn't Count. You Were Either In, Or You Weren't.

The Fate Of Your Heart Is Your Choice And No One Else Gets A Vote

Suddenly, I Was Just Sure He Was Going To Kiss Me. He Was There, I Could Feel His Breath, The Ground Solid Beneath Us. But Then Something Crossed His Face, A Thought, A Hesitation, And He Shifted Slightly. Not Now. Not Yet. It Was Something I'd Done So Often - Weighing What I Could Afford To Risk, Right At That Moment - That I Recognized It Instantly. It Was Like Looking In A Mirror.