This Is Where It All Begins. Everything

She Shouldn't Speak Her Thoughts; Nothing Good Ever Came Of Speaking Your Thoughts.

I Worry Sometimes That I'm A Bit Moralistic; Always Writing About Men Who Are Learning To Grow Up, Not Be So Self-absorbed, Selfish Or Badly Behaved. I Wonder If That's Dull And Liberal And Wimpy? I Should Probably Write Something That Celebrates Wickedness.

In Eight Years Not A Day Has Gone By When She Hasn’t Thought Of Him. She Misses Him And She Wants Him Back. I Want My Best Friend Back, She Thinks, Because Without Him Nothing Is Good And Nothing Is Right.

I Tell You What It Is. It's...when I Didn't See You, I Thought About You Every Day, I Mean Every Day In Some Way Or Another -" "same Here -" "- Even If It Was Just 'i Wish Dexter Could See This' Or 'where's Dexter Now?' Or 'christ, That Dexter, What An Idiot', You Know What I Mean, And Seeing You Today, Well, I Thought I'd Got You Back - My Best Friend. And Now All This, The Wedding, The Baby - I'm So Happy For You, Dex. But It Feels Like I've Lost You Again.

Mortified At The Speed With Which Intimacy Evaporates.