You Still Owe Me A Yellow Porsche.

I Tensed, Waiting For The Fury - Both His And Mine - But It Was Only Quiet And Calm In The Darkness Of His Room. I Could Almost Taste The Sweetness Of Reunion In The Air, A Separate Fragrance From The Perfume Of His Breath; The Emptiness When We Were Apart Left Its Own Bitter Aftertaste, Something I Didn't Consciously Notice Until It Was Removed. There Was No Friction In The Space Between Us. The Stillness Was Peaceful - Not Like The Calm Before The Tempest, But Like A Clear Night Untouched By Even The Dream Of A Storm.

I Thought About That For A Minute - About What I Wanted.

I Tried To Be Diplomatic, But Mostly I Just Lied A Lot.

What Were You Two Doing Last Night, Discussing The National Debt?

Melanie Still Grieves For Jared," She Stated. I Felt My Head Nod Without Willing The Action. "you Grieve For Him." I Closed My Eyes. "the Dreams Continue?" "every Night," I Mumbled. "tell Me About Then." Her Voice Was Soft, Persuasive. "i Don't Like To Talk About Them." "i Know. Try. It Might Help." "how? How Will It Help To Tell You That I See His Face Every Time I Close My Eyes? That I Wake Up And Cry When He's Not There? That The Memories Are So Strong I Can't Separate Hers From Mine Anymore?