With All Due Respect, If You’re Forty-three,

Its A Fine Line Between Love And Stalking.

She Is So Lost In Her Sadness That She Has No Idea How Visible It Is.

I Know From Experience That Beneath Every Peripheral Girl Is A Central Truth. She’s Hiding Hers Away, But At The Same Time She Wants Me To See It.

Deep Breaths. I Am Taking Deep Breaths. Composure. Which, For Me, Means Composing... Maybe This Is My Way Of Creating The Illusion Of Control Over Something I Have No Control Over. Like, If It's Just A Story I'm Telling Or A Song I'm Singing, Then I'll Be Okay Because I'm The Guy Who's Providing The Words.

I Love You,” She Says. “i Love You,” I Say. And Then We Hang Up, Because Nothing Else Needs To Be Said After That. I Want To Give Zara Her Life Back. Even If I Feel I Deserve Something Like This, I Don’t Deserve It At Her Expense.