That Lasting Things Do, In Fact, Last.

Only Adj. Thats The Dilemma Isn't It? When You're Single, There's The Sadness And Joy Of Only Me. And When You're Paired, There's The Sadness And Joy Of Only You.

It Daunted Me That You Were So Beautiful, That You Were So At Ease In Social Situations, As If Every Room Was Heliotropic, With You At The Center. And I Guess It Daunted You That I Had So Many More Friends Than You, That I Could Put My Words Together Like This, On Paper, And Could Sometimes Conjure A Certain Sense Out Of Things. The Key Is To Never Recognize These Imbalances. To Not Let The Dauntingness Daunt Us.

Such A Strange Thing, To Hold A Six-year-old's Hand. Especially A Six-year-old You've Only Just Met. A Toddler Will Grab Hold Of Your Finger, And Someone Your Own Age Will Clasp On To Your Whole Hand, But With Six-year-olds It's Something In Between, This Acknowledgment That They Can't Be The One To Take Hold, So You Have To Do All The Holding, Folding Your Hand Around Theirs, Feeling So Much Bigger And Responsible.

With Some Break-ups, All You Can Think About Afterwards Is How Badly It Ended And How Much The Other Person Hurt You. With Others, You Become Sentimental For The Good Times And Lose Track Of What Went Wrong.

Luckily, I Always Travel With A Book, Just In Case I Have To Wait On Line For Santa, Or Some Such Inconvenience.